Arithmancy
by Faithful Wheezy
Summary: What starts out as a harmless plan to get Ron and Hermione together leads to a semester of detention, mind-reading, revenge, an accidental sex change, literal insanity, and a dumb Arithmancy textbook. In other words: not a harmless plan at all. Complete
1. Arithmancy for breakfast

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

_What starts out as a harmless plan to get Ron and Hermione together leads to a semester of detention, mind-reading, revenge, an accidental sex change, literal insanity, and a dumb Arithmancy textbook. In other words: not a harmless plan at all._

**7/15/10 **Re-edited, rewritten. Please enjoy and review!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's, not mine.

**One: Arithmancy for breakfast  
**

"Ronald Weasley! Can you at least _try_ not to act immature for a few minutes?"

"_Me_, being immature? Well, I'm finding it very difficult to 'not be immature' when some bossy know-it-all is always on my case about it!"

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were having another fight yet again.

Harry was sitting in one of the squashy armchairs nearby, as they were in the common room, apparently absorbed in his book, which he held upside down. Still, it was hard to ignore the physical pain he was feeling in his ears as a result of Ron and Hermione's outraged disagreement.

"Cormac McLaggen, huh? Who would've thought of it?" said Ron, ending in a sneer of which Lucius Malfoy would be proud. "So first you date Krum, then straight off to Cormac? You always claim you're not interested in Quidditch, but I'm starting to think that's the only reason you like them!"

"What?" raged Hermione, her hair falling into her eyes. She paused for a moment, trying to fix her bushy hair, but promptly gave up. "No! Cormac is... wonderful!" She crossed her arms. "And he, at least, has some control over his feelings... unlike _some_ people I know."

Ron's ears reddened, this time out of anger. "Oh yeah? What kind of feelings?" he replied scathingly. "What are you implying?"

Suddenly, everything went silent as Hermione and Ron simply stared at each other, tension building. Just another normal day in the Gryffindor common room.

Finally, Hermione seemed to puff up. Harry peeked out from behind his book and instantly retreated behind it again. The sight was horrifying. Even Ron seemed to regret saying it. "Look, Hermione—" but he never got to finish his sentence. Hermione stomped up the stairs into the Girls' Dormitory.

Ron sank into the armchair next to Harry, and sighed deeply. Harry, sensing that the worst was over, put the book down open into his lap. "Ron, mate, what made you say it?" Ron muttered incoherently. "I'm sure if you just _told _her, then-"

Ron massaged his temples slowly. "Tell her what?"

Harry peered at Ron over the top of his glasses.

"C'mon, mate," Harry said idly, flipping a few pages in the book. "You're not exactly the best at hiding things." He paused to read a passage in the book. "Ah. So the Cannons replaced their Chaser only because Todley paid them to..." Harry adjusted his glasses and looked at Ron, who looked incredulous. "What? We all know."

"What, that Todley paid the Cannons to replace Boxtus?" Ron said. "Well of course. I mean, it was all over the _Daily Prophet_ when it happened..."

"No, no, that _we knew_." The corners of Harry's mouth twitched.

Ron glared at him. "Knew what?" Harry noted how feeble his acting was and allowed himself to smile.

"How you feel about Hermione, of course." He tried unsuccessfully to stifle a chuckle as Ron's ears turned bright red. Ron muttered incoherent words again. "You should just come clean; all of our ears need a bit of a rest."

Ron seemed as though he wanted to contradict what Harry said and thought better of it. "Well, _even if_ I was guilty as charged, which I'm not, come on mate. After what just happened?" Ron sank down into the cushions until his red hair began blending in with the couch's tartan.

Harry propped the book onto the table and started digging into his book bag as he replied, "Then why do you keep picking fights with her?" He came up with yet another book. Hermione's Arithmancy book. He tossed it into Ron's hands. "Here."

"Ugh, Arithmancy," Ron said, saying the name of the subject as though it were a swear word. "No thanks."

"You git," said Harry, getting his own book back off the table. "Hermione dropped it during her little argument with you, and I know she has a test coming up." He flipped a few more pages. "Todley was a Beater alongside Bagman in the Wimbourne Wasps... wow, that's blackmail... oh, sorry—" he muttered sheepishly as Ron grumbled impatiently. "Make it an excuse to see Hermione after your fight, I don't know. I know - give it back to her tomorrow morning apologize, for once."

"She's gonna think I nicked it from her," Ron said, holding the spine of the book between his thumb and forefinger. "She'll just get angrier."

Harry shook his book at Ron threateningly. "Well do _something_! I don't know, ask your sister for help. She's the expert." As if on cue, Ginny came stomping down the stairs, looking rather grumpy.

"You need to lay off her once in a while, Ron."

Ron looked at Harry for support. "What is this, Let's All Be Mean to the Youngest Weasley Boy Day?"

_"C_ome off it, Ron, she's crying. And when I asked her what happened, the only thing she could manage was, '_Him_.'"

"And you automatically assume it's me?"

"Well, who else would it be, Ron?"

"I dunno... Harry?"

Harry and Ginny laughed.

"In all seriousness though, Ron..."

Interrupting, Ron bounded over and shook Ginny by the shoulders urgently. "Ginny, this is exactly what I need your help for. How am I supposed to—?"

-x-

_Dear Hermione,_

_I am a prat. I know I am. And I'm a stupid one, at that. I know it makes you kind of angry when I call your _(here, Ron scratched something out) _stupid names. I wish you'd show me some mercy, Hermione, because I'm repenting. I guess if you wanted to slap me I'd be the bloke to deserve it. I just hate how we fight all the time,  
_

_Ron _

Ron looked over the letter he had written with some disgust. "I dunno, Ginny, this is laaaame. It sounds pretty mushy. Isn't it kind of obvious that I didn't write this? I mean, if I were her, I would know that I'd never write this piece of—"

"Why not Ron? It has your signature..." said Ginny innocently, looking over the paper. "It doesn't seem dodgy to me..."

"_That_ dodgy," Harry put in.

Ron pointed out a few words. "_I am a prat; I wish you'd show me some mercy_.. Ginny, a Ron Weasley wouldn't say that!" He dipped the quill into the ink pot, intending to scratch them out, when Ginny held out a hand to stop him.

"Do you want me to help you or not?" Ron nodded. "Then," she tugged the quill out of Ron's hands, "don't," she screwed the ink pot shut, "do anything else-" she rolled up the parchment, "and make a fool of yourself." she slipped the parchment into Hermione's Arithmancy book and wrapped the whole book into another thick slab of parchment. Tying the parcel with a piece of rope, she beckoned the others to come join her to the Owlery.

"What are we doing?" asked Ron, an eyebrow popping up in question.

"Send it to her by owl post," said Ginny, smiling. "That way, if she _does_ think you stole it from her, you won't necessarily have to be too near at the time."

Harry grinned.

-x-

Down in the Great Hall, Harry, Ron, and Ginny sat together at the table and began fighting each other for the kippers. Down at the other end of the Gryffindor table sat Hermione, deeply engrossed in a conversation with Cormac McLaggen. Harry felt Ron give a twitch next to him. "It's okay," he muttered. "Owl-post'll be arriving soon."

"Like that's supposed to make me feel better? That note was rubbish!"

A loud hoot interrupted Harry's reply. "Post," he said, nodding up at the ceiling. After a few moments, Harry dug his elbow into Ron's side. "Look. Hermione just got the book." Indeed, a tawny owl just dropped a large, book-sized package into Hermione's wheaties, narrowly missing her bowl of porridge. Ron blanched. He coughed and stood up. "Loo," he said gruffly, and ran out of the Great Hall, much to the amusement of Harry and Ginny, including Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, and Neville, who were sitting nearby and listening to everything that was being said.

"What's that?" Cormac McLaggen looked inquiringly at the package in Hermione's cereal dish. Hermione siphoned all of the milk off of the parchment, and reached out to get it. McLaggen got to it first. "Hey," he said pompously. " 'might be for me."

Hermione sniffed. _How rude_.

"Dear Hermione, I am a prat, I know I am-"

"What?"

"S'wat it says here in the letter."

"Give it to me! I'm pretty sure it's not yours if it's addressed to me." Hermione snatched the parchment out of McLaggen's hand. "Dear Hermione... I am a prat... I know I am..." Hermione read the letter slowly. When her eyes rested on the writer of the note, she stared at it for a while.

Ron.

Apart from a mutual love of Quidditch and Keeping, Ron was incredibly different from McLaggen. Sure, he might be loud and boisterous, but he was funny. He was loyal. Sweet, a bit awkward at letter writing... okay, a _lot_ awkward at letter writing, but that was beside the point - and a good chess player. Hermione smiled to herself.

"The Mudblood's daydreaming again," said a sneering voice that came from behind her. Hermione turned around. Draco Malfoy stood there, smirking.

Pansy Parkinson, who was holding his hand, giggled shrilly. "Ah, let her sleep, Draco! It's not often she gets love letters. Even in her dreams she gets dumped by that Weasel King."

"Weasel King, eh?" Malfoy said, his knowing expression at complete odds with the surprise in his voice.

"Her little _crush_."

The two Slytherins roared in laughter, accompanied by the whole Slytherin table, who enjoyed tormenting Muggleborns at every chance they had, whether it was as petty as laughing at trifling romances.

"Granger loves the Weasel, Granger loves the Weasel!" they all sang.

At that moment, Ron came in, looking slightly harassed, but blessedly oblivious to what the Slytherins were singing. He slid next to Harry again.

"Oy, Ron. You missed a lot of the movie!" said Seamus, grinning.

Ron turned towards Harry. "What's a movie?"

"Never mind," Harry said quickly. However, Ron had forgotten and turned to his friends, who were looking at him with knowing looks on their faces.

"What?"

Harry tried yet again to quiet his laughter. "Sorry, mate. It kind of... slipped out."

"I'll get back at you _later_," muttered Ron angrily towards Harry, who simply shrugged with a good-natured smile.

**_initium de alterum_**


	2. Ghostly moans

**Arithmancy**

by Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Two: Ghostly moans  
**

"That was embarrassing," groaned Ron from under his bedspread. "I am _dead_. Dead-dead-dead-dead-dead-dead-dead."

"What are you talking about?" asked Harry, who was lounging on his own bed. "I was watching Hermione read it. You know, she smiled. I think."

"You know what I'm talking about," Ron said impatiently. "The Slytherins! What brought _that_ on? They saw the note, Malfoy definitely called me out, the Slytherins sang 'Granger loves the Weasel' to the whole Great Hall, and you're wondering why I'm dead?"

"Well, if you weren't yelling and screaming and raving at me like a lunatic, then maybe I'd get a clue," said Harry with a laugh.

"Why did I have to take Ginny's stupid advice and write that bloody note anyway?" mumbled Ron. "Why couldn't I just return the blasted book normally and say sorry?"

"Why'd you pick a fight with her?" Harry stood up and gave him a book. "Here it is, by the way. She left her Arithmancy book again."

"Bloody hell!" Ron said. "Really? I already gave the damn thing to Hermione through bloody owl post! I go through embarrassment like that and she—"

"—dropped it," said Harry with a squint. "She dropped it. Again. Can you believe that? After she blasted those Slytherins with that weird hex that makes them go—" Harry imitated some rather gruesome movements—"she practically took off and left the book and Cormac McLaggen behind. Speaking of which," here, Ron's ears flared up a becoming shade of red, "you looked pretty ready to murder him."

"With a Beater's bat," Ron agreed calmly.

"Er, right. Well, don't worry about him. I'm pretty sure he and Hermione aren't going out."

"Officially, anyway," muttered Ron.

After a few moments, Ron straightened up. "Is there anything important about that book, anyway?" he asked. "For something so important, she seems to drop it an awful lot."

Harry looked at the shabby Arithmancy textbook and shrugged. "Ginny just told me there was a little significance to it. Not too important, I guess. Maybe it was just bought by somebo—" but he stopped at the look Ron was beginning to develop. "Like I said, it's probably not important."

Harry watched Ron for a minute. He was practically melting into his bed, with his face burning up like a constipated tomato. Harry knew for a long time that Ron had long since cradled unsteady emotions toward Hermione, and every time those two would fight, Harry had the urge to walk up to them, smash each other's face into the other, and yell, "Geeze! Just shut up and snog already!" even though he knew it was equivalent to walking into a basilisk's lair with his eyes taped open. Without a wand. Naked.

Also, he knew McLaggen was tricky. He was bad enough to be a Slytherin—he had a sneer that was almost half as bad as Malfoy's—and he heard McLaggen call Ron a 'blood traitor' firsthand. He also caught him staring at Hermione occasionally, but he didn't think much of it. He was starting to get his suspicions, and now, he just wasn't so sure.

"I'm dead," moaned Ron for the millionth time that afternoon. "I'm dead and buried and this is my ghost, I'm dead… bury my body at the Burrow, Harry, I'm dea—"

"Ron?"

Harry whipped around. "Hermione? Er… this is the _boys'_ dormitory. What are you doing in he—"

"Never stopped me before, Harry," she said cheerfully. "_And_, I seem to recall something about two boys who looked like you back in second year who brewed a practically-illegal-potion-that-could-have-gotten-us-expelled in the _girls' _bathroom."

"And whose idea was that?" shouted Ron from his bed.

"I thought you were dead, Ron," said Hermione, her voice getting louder. She looked as though she was going to say something, then changed her mind. "Excuse me, Harry; Cormac's waiting for me downstairs. Today's a Hogsmeade weekend, and we're going _together_." She put a lot of emphasis on the word. "I can't wait. It's going to be so much fun. I'd invite you, Harry," here she put on a convincingly sympathetic face—"but I've never had a weekend alone with Cormac, so I thought I'd take the chance today. I'll see you later tonight, though! Harry," she repeated, making it a point to ignore Ron. She waved, and left the dormitory.

"'Well, don't worry about him,' he says, 'I'm pretty sure he and Hermione aren't going out,' he says." Ron furrowed his brow angrily. "Could have fooled me."

-x-

"_Finally_," Cormac McLaggen said, standing up from the armchair he was sitting in in the Common Room. "What were you doing in the boys' dormitories?"

"Sorry," she said hastily. "It's just—he's one of my best friends, you know? Got to watch out for each other…"

"I didn't say anything about any best friends," McLaggen said slowly.

Hermione balked at her Freudian slip.

"Well anyway, let's go to Quality Quidditch Supplies when we get to Hogsmeade—I have a bunch of stuff I need to buy. And if I run out of money, do you mind to lend? I'll… pay you back," he said in his sly voice.

_Okay. Game plan,_ Hermione thought to herself. _Think of pleasant things when near McLaggen. Okay. Hogwarts: a History. The smell of freshly cut grass. A finished essay. Red hair, freckles... what? _Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts, which McLaggen interpreted as affirmation.

"So you don't mind?"

_Think of Cormac McLaggen... dead. Yeah! Think that _you_ killed him. Imagine aiming the wand at him… imagine Ron watching from the sidelines… imagine his hair blowing in the wind…oh. Was that creepy? _"Nah, I don't," said Hermione weakly. _Oh bugger it! Ron. Ron, Ron. _"Afterward, we'll get something to eat?" _Blue eyes, the way he punches me playfully when I correct him about something...  
_

"Let's try the Warlock Wun Stop, great beef and steak place."

Hermione was not a vegetarian, but she attempted to avoid meat most of the time.

_Here lies Cormac McLaggen, beloved son and friend. _"No, I don't mind…"

-x-

"I'm dead! Just DEAD! I'm dead and gone, dead and gone, dead and gone,"

"Ron! Will you shut up, already?" Seamus yelled from his own bed. "Please? If you just shut up, I promise you that me, Dean, Neville, and Harry will… get you and Hermione together. Just _shut up_!"

"_Oooooooh..._ did you guys hear that? Was that a good ghostly moan?"

"Why don't you save your moans for other recreational activities?" Dean said, waggling his eyebrows. Ron was just about to hex those eyebrows when Harry came to the rescue.

"That was a brilliant idea, Seamus!" Harry roared, pretending to casually step in the line of fire between Ron and Dean. "We'll get you two together, easy. Just leave it to us."

Neville was able to finally breathe again. "Yeah, Ron. We'll help you. Right guys?"

Dean and Neville could do nothing else but nod their head feebly and say "Sure, mate. Anything for you!" While Seamus added under his breath, "Anything to shut you up."

**_finite_**


	3. You didn't tell me this was a pub

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Three: You didn't tell me this was a pub**

Hermione was not a frail woman. Everyone in her year knew that, except, apparently, the Slytherins.

And it so happened that on her and Cormac's way out to Hogsmeade, the same group of Slytherins who had humiliated her in the Great Hall started up with another chant of "Granger Loves the Weasel."

"Hold on, a minute, Cormac. Do you mind?"

"Go for it?"

"_Incurro_!" She yelled. An orange jet of light beamed from her wand and hit the Slytherins, who then proceeded to rise into the air and collide repeatedly into each other. Hermione smirked in satisfaction.

"Nice," McLaggen said appreciatively, looking at Hermione differently, "but what was that for?"

"I just felt like it," she said, walking towards Filch at the two winged gargoyles and showing him her slip. "You prat, I just paid them back for this morning."

"Oh, yeah. I've been meaning to ask you something about that." McLaggen looked serious. "You and Ron—what's the deal with you two?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm here with you, aren't I?"

"Well, okay."

"I mean, I like him a lot. As a friend!" Hermione added hastily. "But I have no intentions of liking him more than that."

She paused. Maybe she did have intentions of liking Ron as much more than a friend. Ever since she met him on the train (darn his cute smudged nose!), she knew that there was something special about him. It was more than just his fiery red hair, or his handsome, lopsided smile, or the sharp wit she could sense in his voice—she could feel that he had a good, kind heart. He had the kind of soul a dementor would be itching to get its slimy hands on—if they were classified as hands. Were they classified as hands?

"As long as that's it," McLaggen said, interrupting her reverie. "Let's get to Quality Quidditch Supplies, then?"

_-x-  
_

"Well, let's see. We need some sort of bait—something to get Hermione near you." Seamus told Ron. "Do you have anything? I'm not exactly keen on stealing something from her."

"Yeah," said Dean. "After all, she's not a frail woman."

"She has some good hexes too," muttered Neville, thinking of the old D.A. days.

"Ron has the perfect thing," interrupted Harry. "He has that Arithmancy book she's been carrying around a lot lately. Show it to them, Ron."

Ron took out the Arithmancy book and handed it to Seamus. "I know for a fact that she has a test coming up, but when she sees I have her book, she'll fly off the wall and get mad at me for _stealing_."

"Oh yeah," Seamus groaned. "She's been a bit dodgy lately, so this'll be harder than I thought. Didn't you send it to her through owl-post this morning?"

"Shush!" Neville pleaded. "Don't remind him—" but Ron had already covered his eyes and starting moaning something about being dead and something about 'stupid books'.

"Snap out of it, git," said Dean, knocking Ron on the head. "How bad can it possibly be to tell a woman, 'Hey, I'm sorry? Go out with me?'"

"Very hard," moaned Ron forgetting his previously vehement denials. "You can't possibly know Hermione as well as I do—I've seen her punch Malfoy's lights out, I've seen her pound on Hagrid's door and practically yell in Dumbledore's face, I've seen her discover what Slytherin's monster was by herself, and I've seen her when she was almost destroyed by it, along with my sister. Next to all of those things, how I feel about her is probably the last thing she could care about, let alone getting her to even consider liking me."

"But what if she already likes you, Ron?" asked Neville. "We might do all this hard work and realize that she had already liked you in the end—"

"That's perfect, Neville!" shouted Seamus.

"What?"

"We could get one of us to first find out what Hermione thinks of Ron. Nothing big, like Polyjuice potion or anything—" here, Ron and Harry cringed—"but something casual, you know, like, 'I always knew Ron was a great guy. You're lucky to be his best friend, Hermione—' you know. Stuff like that. Juice the answers out of her, but keep her from being suspicious at the same time."

"She's probably suspicious of all of us now," grumbled Ron.

"Not Neville!" said Dean excitedly. "Not him! She _almost_ went to the Yule Ball with him, right? And she always helps him with homework and stuff. We can use Neville!"

While Ron was grumbling something about 'enemies' and 'fraternizing', Harry said, "Neville and Hermione have Herbology first thing tomorrow, don't they? Neville, do you think you can manage to get with Hermione on the same table tomorrow?"

Neville, who was terrified that they were going to use him as a hostage, was relieved to find out that he was just going to be Hermione's Herbology partner, and burst out a little too quickly, "Yes, yes, I can manage!"

Ron looked a little suspicious, but said, "Thanks, man. But what about the Arithmancy book?"

"Eh, she's not going to get in trouble. Professor Vector has extra copies of Arithmancy books in his closet," replied Dean. "I know. I walked in for an errand for Professor McGonagall while a kid asked him for an extra copy."

"Then why is she so bonkers over that book?" wondered Ron out loud.

"Maybe it has notes in it?" suggested Neville. "Open it, Seamus!"

Seamus started to open the Arithmancy book.

-x-

Hermione was not having fun. McLaggen might as well have bought out the whole Quality Quidditch Supplies store—and to top it all of, he went as far as wheedling far too many a galleon off of Hermione, promising to "pay her back later." Hermione was unsure of what he meant, but she was sure that it wasn't going to be anything good.

"Thanks a bunch, 'Mione," he said, walking out of the shop holding a large pile of Quidditch supplies.

_"_Do you mind not calling me that?" she replied absently. _Well, at least he's not asking me to help hold some…_

"Do you mind holding this for me?" asked McLaggen suddenly. "I have to check in at the Warlock Wun Stop."

"Why don't I check it for us—" But McLaggen had already dumped his pile on top of Hermione and walked inside the restaurant.

What Hermione didn't know was that the Warlock Wun Stop was not just a steak and beef house—it was a pub. They strictly sold Firewhisky, and Aged Shockwine, and not to mention the extremely alcoholic Stingrum. She did know that McLaggen was a tricky person to be around, but she didn't know _how_ tricky he really was.

"It's all good, Hermione. We just managed to snag one table… close enough for the two of us." He winked in what he evidently thought was a suave way and lead Hermione to the table—which was snug and right in the corner, too close for comfort, Hermione noticed—and sat down right across from her. "Here's the menu. Oh yeah, my stuff, toss 'em under the table, would you?" Hermione did so. "I'm, er, going to order some… Sorcery Steak Supreme, and three shots of Aged Shockwine. What're you going to get?"

"You're going to _drink_?"

"Well, yeah. Why not? I have two free periods first thing tomorrow. I can sleep in for a full two hours and forty-five minutes." He tapped the menu with his wand. "What're you getting?"

Hermione was stunned. "You didn't tell me that this was a pub," she said warily.

"Well, no, they mostly sell beef and steaks. Don't you want to give this stuff a chance? Quite good, you won't get caught, eh? What do you say?"

"Cormac, no!"

McLaggen sighed, and slumped down in his sight. "Fine then. So what are you getting?"

Moments after the waiter, who was McLaggen's friend and went way back with him, left with their orders, McLaggen left with him, and into the kitchens, using the excuse "I need to use the bathroom," and leaving hastily before Hermione could reply.

"What'd she get again?" McLaggen asked his friend.

"A cheap gillywater," grumbled the waiter. "Your girlfriend there has no life."

"Listen, I'll pay you ten galleons if you change her order of gillywater to a Tall Firewhisky. _That'll_ give her some life."

"Oho, having ideas, eh? Well, it's a done deal, but shouldn't you going to disguise it in some way?"

"Illusion spell," said McLaggen proudly. "Easy. I'll charm the Firewhisky to look like a harmless cup of gillywater."

"It's done," said the friend, claiming his ten galleons.

**_finite_**


	4. She didn't come in to bed last night

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Four: She didn't come in to bed last night**

Shortly after McLaggen returned from "the bathroom," the waiter arrived with the meal and McLaggen's drink. "Sorry, ma'am," he said to Hermione, "but it's taking us a while to open the gillywater tube. It should be there shortly." McLaggen had already charmed the Firewhisky to look like a gillywater, but it took a while for the charm to take effect.

He and Hermione had already begun eating when the waiter came with the "gillywater." "I apologize for the wait, madam," he said with a bow. "So as an apology from us here at the Warlock Wun Stop, we're giving you free refills." He winked at McLaggen without Hermione noticing.

"Oh, that's fine," said Hermione, taking a few sips of the gillywater. "Thank you."

"Well!" said McLaggen, "A toast! To… our first date," he trailed off, not finding a good enough occasion for a toast.

"Er, alright. To our first date," said Hermione. _Ron, Ron, Ron. _She drank deeply and finished her glass. "Where's the waiter? I think he said something about –hic– free refills?"

McLaggen noticed with a smirk that Hermione had begun to feel drunk. He waved his friend over. "Refill, please?" The waiter poured Hermione more Firewhisky disguised as gillywater. Hermione missed the two smirks the two were giving each other, and proceeded to drink two glasses straight of Firewhisky.

McLaggen smiled to himself as he drank his shots of Shockwine. Oh, this was going to be good. "How're you feeling, 'Mione?"

He waited a while until Hermione stopped hiccuping. "Super duper, Corm-Corm, baby. This stuff is good. Waiter!" She did a drunken wave. "More gillywater please. Hurry up! Now!"

"What do you say we do after this?" slurred McLaggen, half-drunk himself. "Your call."

"We can go in to the castle early," Hiccuped Hermione.

McLaggen felt a little disappointed. "What do we do there?" He hiccuped as well.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," mumbled Hermione, with a drunken wink. "We'll think of something." She kicked the pile of Quidditch Supplies under the table. "Yer supposed ta pay me back." More slurring. Hermione's grammar was getting even worse.

"Eat your food quickly, then," he said, reaching under the table to touch her knee, "and then we can go back."

-x-

"What's written in it, Seamus?" asked Harry curiously.

"A bunch of words, crossed out," said Seamus in disappointment. "Although I can't read what they say, they're practically scribbled on."

"And after all those years Hermione told us never to foul a book," said Ron dreamily. "Breaks her own rules, that girl does." And Ron, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with the other boys, fell backwards on his back comically.

"Neville," said Dean in exasperation, "wake up Loverboy there, will you?"

"Loverboy?" Neville stared at Dean blankly.

"Just wake Ron up, will you?" said Dean, throwing a pillow at Neville. For Ron had fallen into a blissful faint.

While Neville was reviving Ron the Muggle way (he was afraid to send him to the hospital wing in a matchbox), Seamus, Dean, and Harry were trying to decipher what was written in Hermione's Arithmancy book.

"—I think I see an 'o'!"

"There's a circle—no, that's a heart?"

"—the word 'on'. On? Why would that be crossed out?"

"That's where I saw the 'o'!"

"All right, all right, we get your 'o', Dean!"

"—another heart… and another… Ron, this might be your lucky day!"

"He's not conscious yet," said Neville, in exasperation. "I don't want to use my wand, I'm afraid I'll hurt him."

"No need," said Harry. "He's coming 'round. Oh, another heart!"

"Wha' happened," grumbled Ron.

"We're trying to figure out what's written in Hermione's Arithmancy book," said Harry, taking off his glasses and peering closer to the scribbled words. "We've seen the word 'on' and a bunch of hearts."

"'On'? Could that be the fragment of a word…?" asked Ron anxiously.

"We tried looking for an 'r' before the word. There was nothing before it," answered Harry apologetically. "There was no scribble before the 'o' Dean was telling us about."

"Eh," said Ron. "I still don't see the importance of that lousy Arithmancy book."

-x-

It didn't take long for Hermione to become completely drunk, and then some. She couldn't stand up for laughing so hard. She and McLaggen had started to laugh randomly, and though McLaggen could control his mirth, Hermione couldn't. In between hiccups and laughter, she kept saying, "We should go, we should go," and some mumbles about 'payback' and something about showing somebody what she was made of.

"We should really go, Cormac," said Hermione, after she paused to breathe. She attempted to stand up, and finally did. "Payback, remember?"

"Oh, I'll give you _theeee_ best payback you've ever seen, babe," slurred out McLaggen. "The very best," and he slid his hand down her shoulder.

_Ron, Ron… payback… pay him back… pay Ron back!_ Hermione's thoughts were being muddled. She remembered Cormac bringing her to the Room of Requirement… some kissing… and then she remembered nothing.

-x-

It was the next day, and Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Ron were hurriedly giving Neville reminders about what to do in Herbology class.

"You and Hermione are one of the few who are in the accelerated class for Herbology," said Harry. "So please try to lasso her as partner." Ron was quiet, and still looking suspiciously at Neville.

"Don't forget what we told you to do," said Seamus. "Just ease the answers out of her discreetly, nothing fancy."

"Yeah. Don't make her think that you've gone to the dark side, or something," said Dean.

"Haven't I already?" Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Ron couldn't tell if he was being serious or not.

-x-

Neville had been in Herbology for ten minutes; Hermione was never this late! He looked around the Herbology group for today; there was Parvati and Lavender, but Hermione wasn't in sight.

"Er, Parvati? Lavender?" Neville approached them with an anxious look on his face. "Have you seen Hermione?"

Parvati sighed. "She didn't come in to bed last night," she replied with a worried look.

"The last time we saw her, she was leaving to go to Hogsmeade with Cormac McLaggen," Lavender added. "He looks like a dodgy character, Parvati and I don't really trust him."

"We think," Parvati said hesitantly, "that he might've done something to her."

"Oh, no!" Neville ran out of Greenhouse Three and into Greenhouse Two, where the intermediate class was also waiting for Professor Sprout. "Harry—Ron—Seamus—Dean—Hermione's in trouble—" here, Neville paused to lean onto the nearest surface, panting.

"What? _What?_" Harry asked, dropping his shears.

Neville straightened up, one hand on his chest in an awkwardly feminine way. "Parvati—Lavender—told me she didn't come in dormitory last night—she's in trouble—McLaggen—hurt her—in trouble!"

"What?" roared Ron, practically jumping out of his greenhouse apron. "Slimy git! I'm actually starting to wish Malfoy asked her out instead of him!"

"Ron, you didn't want anybody to ask her out at all," reminded Harry, patting him on the shoulder.

"How could something happen to Hermione?" Seamus asked incredulously. "She can always take care of herself. Where would McLaggen ever take her?"

"The Room of Requirement," said Harry quietly.

"Of course!" Ron swore under his breath.

"Way to think like a rapist, Harry—"

"Oh, shut up..."

"We'll go there as soon as class ends," Dean interrupted hurriedly. "We have a free period afterwards—we can look for her there."

-x-

The first conscious thought Hermione felt was that her head, shoulders, neck, and stomach hurt a lot.

The second thing was that she was in a bed—and someone was next to her. In horror, she realized that she was only wearing her underclothing—at least she was wearing anything anyway—but who was with her?

_McLaggen_.

She also missed all of first period.

All thoughts rushed back to Hermione's mind… the gillywater—well, she didn't _think_ it was gillywater—the kissing, the Room of Requirement… oh no…

_I gave payback all right... but what have I done?_

_**finite**_

Tasters anyone?

Taster #1: Hermione and her innocence are best friends. Have you ever fought with your best friend?  
Taster #2: The Muggle saying, "A taste of your own medicine" is quite true. Indeed.  
Taster #3: Never peek in Hermione's stuff. Including her books.  
Taster #4: Is payback really the solution to problems?  
Taster #5: It is for some people.  
Taster #6: Neville was forgotten in most stories. _Not mine._


	5. He got me drunk, Professor

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Five: He got me drunk, Professor**

Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were at the stretch of wall were the Room of Requirement was hidden.

"It might not work, you guys," said Ron doubtfully. "Last year, when Harry was looking for Malfoy, he was thinking something like, '_I need to find out where Malfoy is_' or '_I need to know where Malfoy's been disappearing to_', but it never worked…"

"Well, we know what we're looking for now!" said Harry. "Hermione would be looking for a place to snog McLaggen where no one would find them—get a grip, Ron, she's probably drunk or Confunded or something—so what the five of us need to think is something like… '_I need to find a place to snog_'."

"Er, Harry?" asked Seamus tentatively.

"Never mind. Let me try first then," so Harry walked past the wall three times muttering something about snogging, when a door appeared. Harry looked at the others with a nervous face before slowly opening the door.

"—YOU MEAN BY BRINGING ME HERE! _WHY_ DID YOU SPIKE MY DRINK?"

"I didn't spike your drink, 'Mione, honest," came the slurred voice of McLaggen, who was obviously still drunk. "You drank Firewhisky."

"IDIOT! WHY WOULD YOU DO SUCH A HORRIBLE THING TO ME! NOW MY WHOLE FUTURE IS RUINED, ALL BECAUSE OF _YOU_!"

"I'm pretty sure we didn't do anything, 'Mione."

"DON'T CALL ME 'MIONE, McLAGGEN!"

It was Hermione and McLaggen. The five boys obviously heard what they thought they needed to know—McLaggen got Hermione drunk, and brought her down to the Room of Requirement, where they didn't really go as far as McLaggen would have liked, but worried everyone else.

Dean, Seamus, and Neville started to hold Ron back, just in case he would go rushing in there like a fat samurai warrior on steroids—regardless of whether he knew what those were or not.

"Slimy git," snarled Ron. "Evil, twisted, backstabbing Slytherin-turned-Gryffindor. I'll kill him."

"Ron, breathe," commanded Dean in a calm voice. "In through your nose, out through your—"

"He hurt Hermione!"

"Ron, calm down, or they'll hear you…"

-x-

Hermione and McLaggen already heard voices talking outside, however, not paying them much attention. "McLaggen, _tell me the truth_! What did you do to me!"

"I dunno, baby, if you don't remember, I don't either." McLaggen crashed back into the bed.

"Free period for both of us next," he said, grabbing her wrist and attempting to pull her in. "One hour and fifteen minutes for—ow!"

Hermione cast an intense stinging charm on him, dressed in her robes at top speed, and went over to open the door, prepared to run out at the speed of lightning.

-x-

Ron had heard voices inside, and the anger for McLaggen inside of him was slowly mounting. When he felt he couldn't take it anymore, he reached out for the handle of the door, preparing to run at the speed of lightning.

-x-

They crashed into each other.

"Ow, Hermione!"

"Ow, Ron!"

"Hermione! Bloody hell, are you alright!" because Hermione had thrown her arms around him, crying.

"Ron… McLaggen… he's in there… Ron…!"

"These are times when I almost wish Colin Creevy was here with us," Harry whispered to Seamus, Dean, and Neville. They nodded in agreement.

"Stop smiling, gits!" Ron snapped at them. "This isn't funny—bring Hermione down to Professor McGonagall and," he looked at Hermione—"tell her what he did to you. I'm going to teach McLaggen a lesson."

"Ron, don't hurt him!" said Hermione.

Ron looked surprised. "Oh…?"

Hermione laughed. "It's not what you think—it's just if you hurt him, you're going to get in trouble. Just stupefy him and we'll levitate him with us to Professor. And, er, if you're wondering, I... I…"

Ron looked at her hopefully.

"I'm still mad at you."

-x-

"He did _what_ to you, Miss Granger?"

"He got me drunk, Professor McGonagall, and," Hermione continued stiffly, "he attempted to have sex with me. I'm sorry."

"I hold nothing against you, Miss Granger, given the circumstances—but how in the world did he manage to get you drunk?"

"He took me to a restaurant, and I don't remember drinking any alcoholic beverage, but I think what he did was he gave me a Firewhiskey disguised as a gillywater. If I had known what it was, Professor, I wouldn't have taken it. Honest. I even tried to stop _him_ from drinking. But he wouldn't."

"I see. Where is he now?" Professor McGonagall opened the door to her study and looked outside. "Oh. There's Mr. Weasley—oh and, Mr. McLaggen, how nice to see you unconscious and... levitating?"

"He tried to do it to me this morning, if you please, ma'am, I couldn't do anything but Stun him."

"I see. Well, I think the best thing for all of us is to give McLaggen a detention… and twenty points from Gryffindor… yes, yes, but it's all in the rules. I'm sorry." For Ron, Harry, Seamus, and Dean looked scandalized. "You may leave now, boys. And Hermione."

Hermione turned to leave, but no sooner had she put a shoe outside the door, she heard McGonagall add, "Oh, and, don't think that young McLaggen will get a simple slap on the wrist." Hermione nodded, a grim smile set on her face. "You're dismissed."

-x-

Harry was stumped. How could Hermione possibly still be mad at Ron? It wasn't anything bad… but those two seemed to be taking it extremely seriously. Seamus, Dean, and Neville were all thinking around the same lines too. "I'm getting really annoyed with those two," whispered Harry to them while Ron was in the bathroom. "I think it's time we take matters into our own hands."

"Yeah," said Seamus excitedly. "By the end of this year, we might as well be getting invitations to Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger's wedding."

Neville surprised them all by adding, "Maybe I can be a godfather?"

-x-

Ron was washing his face off in the sink of the boys' bathroom. Neville had said 'yes' too readily to the plan of him being Hermione's Herbology partner. He had asked her to the Yule Ball, hadn't he? Was Neville himself developing a crush on _his_ Hermione Jane Granger? He had always been friends with Neville—but his jealousy was clouding out all the sanity left in his brain.

He would get Hermione for his own, no matter who or what was in his way!

Ron was becoming paranoid.

-x-

"Sorry, guys," he panted, his face still sopping wet from the bathroom. "I just needed to wash up a bit." He stole a glance at Neville. Neville looked pretty innocent—he wasn't even standing next to Hermione—or could that be a bad thing?

"Well, we need to hurry up," said Harry, looking at his watch, but giving up because he remembered it had been broken since fourth year (and being to lazy to repair it with magic). "We need to get to Potions… and Hermione has to go to Ar—ith—mance—ey," he added, putting a lot of emphasis on the subject so Ron could get the message.

As Hermione and Ron went into their separate dormitories to get their stuff, Neville called after them—"No, seriously. Can I please be the godfather?"

Seamus, Dean, and Harry choked on their laughs as Ron and Hermione glared at each other across the staircase, and as the three left the common room, they swore they could hear voices saying, "No—I hate you more!"

**_finite_**

Eh. I have incredible news! There will be two surprise guests at Hogwarts for the remainder of the year. Have you figured out who yet? If you haven't- you'll have to figure out the hard way.


	6. They really do take after you

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Six: They really do take after you**

The door to Professor Flitwick's classroom opened, and a small, stout witch poked her head around the door. "May I please borrow Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger for a while, Professor Flitwick? There are people here to see them."

"You may, you may," squeaked tiny Flitwick, standing on his tottering pile of books in an attempt to make him look taller. "Go along, you three."

It was the next day, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were attending their classes as usual.

"Who is it that's looking for us?" asked Hermione curiously.

The small witch kept walking briskly forward, and without looking at Hermione, answered, "Oh, I quite don't remember their names, but they were quite troublemakers themselves in their time here, not so long ago."

"As bad as Fred and George?" asked Harry, suddenly interested.

The witch paused. "Worse. Come on, come on, you lot, keep up."

Ron shrugged at the two of them.

-x-

"Bill! Charlie!" said Ron in amazement. "I didn't know you two were troublemakers worse than Fred and George!" he paused for a minute. "Then again, I didn't know you two were coming here anyway." He looked confused, and then shrugged. "So what are you doing here?"

"Well, Bill here became Wizard Worker of the Year recently, so as a reward, he got five hundred galleons and six months off of work. As for me, the dragons in Romania had recently taken to _hibernation_. One of the experts I met there found out that dragons hibernate every thirty six years, a year and a half long. Well," said Charlie, drawing his breath, "you learn something new every year."

"Never thought I'd see the day I'd be actually glad to come back here on our own accord, eh, Charlie?" said Bill, playing with his dragon-fang earring. "Same as ever, except for that suit of armor. When Harry was in fourth year, wasn't the suit of armor over there, kind of _behind_ that rather large, venomous looking plant?"

"…er, yeah. Sure, Bill," said Harry slowly. _Worse troublemakers than Fred and George, eh? _ "Listen," he said, making a decision on the spot, "I need the help of you two—but I'll talk to you later, after classes."

"Why'd you pull us out of class anyway?" inquired Hermione. "This isn't anything majorly death-threatening, is it?"

"Eh?" said Bill. "Nah. I just thought that if I were you, I wouldn't want to stay holed up in class too long." Charlie nodded in agreement.

-x-

"What is it you wanted to ask us, Harry?" asked Charlie, looking a tad confused. "It must be something important, if you didn't want to tell us in front of Ron and Hermione."

"It _is_ bad!" said Seamus, who was accompanying Harry, along with Dean and Neville.

"Your brother," started Dean, "and Hermione are driving us up the wall."

"Er… why?" asked Bill.

"They will not shut up and snog!" yelled Harry, waving his wand above his head for emphasis. "They keep fighting all the bloody time, and both of them are too shallow to admit that they have feelings for the other!"

Neville wore a triumphant look. "I knew it," he said proudly.

The others looked at him.

"What? I knew that Ron and Hermione liked each other…"

"You, and the rest of the world, Neville," said Harry.

"Ooh," said Charlie, suddenly beaming. "You know what? The rest of the family was suspecting something like this too. But we weren't actually planning anything…"

"But we _need_ your help!" said Harry, adding a pleading tone to his voice. "We're sick and tired of hearing Ron mumbling something about 'death' every time he goes to bed, and when he's finally asleep, he keeps mumbling… loudly… about Hermione and some sort of loss, enemies, fraternizing, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans."

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?" Bill looked at Charlie in surprise. "Our brother has it bad, Charlie."

"No kidding," said Seamus, his eyes bugging out slightly. "All of Gryffindor would be grateful if you could turn their screaming fights into snogging fests."

"Snog fests are quieter," added Dean, nodding his head wisely. "And less annoying, because we don't normally need to watch them do it."

"Bad image," mumbled Neville, his eyes screwed up tight. The others suddenly blanched and instinctively covered their eyes.

After a pause, Bill figured out that nothing was happening, and coughed. "I have the perfect idea, you lot."

"What?" asked Harry excitedly.

"Okay. Me and Charlie are going to need your participation—mainly because you are their friends, and they _should_ trust you."

Charlie's face suddenly brightened up. "I know what you're thinking!" he said, grinning like a madman. "But we need something of Hermione's… something good and personal. Some item she's written on… we already have something of Ron's, we'll just raid his room, easy."

"Why do we need things from them?" asked Neville.

"Okay," said Bill, beckoning them closer. "It's like this…"

-x-

"There you are, Ron!" said Harry, a little too jubilantly. "I was wondering where you got to—wet floors can be a real fix, huh?"

Ron stared at him. "Are you okay, mate? You seem…"

"Don't worry about me, Ron," replied Harry quickly. "Come on, let's get to Transfiguration. McGonagall must be wondering where we got to…"

"Er… okay…"

Harry started running across one of the many halls so fast that he almost skidded right into the rather large, venomous-looking plant that Bill had pointed out earlier. "Hurry _up_, Ron. I don't want to be late—"

"If you ask me, we're still two minutes early." Said Ron, peering at a clock on the wall that had at least fifteen arms with symbols circling the rim of the clock.

"Really? Oh."

"Harry?" Ron tapped Harry's head experimentally with his wand. "I think you need the hospital wing. You're acting _hyper_."

"No, I'm not," said Harry exasperatedly. "McGonagall just promised to show the class something if all the students got to class on time."

Ron stared at Harry. "Well, whatever you say, mate, but I still think you should go to the Hospital Wing."

Harry grinned. The plan was working flawlessly.

-x-

Seamus and Neville were standing outside the Transfiguration classroom with Hermione's Arithmancy book. "Harry said he'd be bringing Ron with him one minute 'til class started." Said Seamus, looking at a clock similar to what Ron had been looking at earlier in the opposite hall. "There goes that minute. They should be here… now."

"Sorry we're late," said a whispered voice.

"Nah, you're not late, you're right on time." Seamus tapped the Arithmancy book. "I have it right here. Bill and Charlie are hiding somewhere nearby…" he gestured around the hall. "When Hermione gets here, they're going to perform the first spell. But Ron needs to be within fifteen feet of her… where is he?"

"He's lagging behind," sighed Harry. "I think he thinks I need to go to the Hospital Wing."

"Great, good job, Harry," said the voice of Charlie Weasley. "Yes, we're using your cloak—sorry about that, we won't harm it, honest."

"Right," said Bill's voice. "Anyway, if Ron isn't—oh, damn—"

"Sorry," said Ron. "Did you know there's another trick staircase around the corner?"

Almost at the same time, Hermione rounded the corner, along with Parvati and Lavender.

Harry felt something prodding him in the shoulder. "Give me the book," hissed Bill.

-x-

Once they had completed the first part of the plan, and when Transfiguration class was over, Harry, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Bill, and Charlie were all sitting on the floor of the boys' dormitory. "So…" said Neville, "what exactly did that spell do?"

"It enables to person to hear the thoughts of the other." Said Bill.

"And… how will that bring Ron and Hermione together, exactly…?" asked Seamus, looking slightly harassed.

"Why did we need to get Hermione's personal items?" asked Dean. "If you ask me, this plan sounds pretty stupid right now."

Bill and Charlie looked at each other and muttered something about 'impertinence.' "You'll understand someday when you boys are as magnificent as we are," said Charlie, barely holding a smile. "Now this is only the first part of the plan. No! I'm not telling you the rest yet. We have to go step by step—"

"—by step, by step," finished Bill. "We needed something that Hermione would have written some of her secrets in. Something like a diary."

"Well, the Arithmancy book was somewhat close to that," said Harry uncertainly. "It had writing all over it, with hearts too, scribbled out… it looked as though she wanted to keep them a secret."

"Good enough," said Charlie. "We had something personal of Ron's. The notebook Mum persuaded him to keep."

"Why?" asked Neville.

"You know, because Ron always had a bit of a temper and paranoia problem," said Bill. "A Healer at St. Mungo's suggested something like a pensieve that Ron could dump his thoughts into. But we couldn't find any pensieves anywhere, so a notebook was probably the only thing we could get at the time. But anyway, that's not important."

"The personal secrets are actually parts of the person's soul," said Charlie.

"Oh," said Harry. "Kind of like the first Horcrux I got—the diary of Tom Riddle."

"Sort of," said Bill. "The soul, as you guys probably know, contains a bit of everything from the person—"

"I didn't know that," muttered Neville. Dean stomped on his foot.

"Anyway," continued Charlie, as though Neville wasn't practically hopping on his back muttering something about pain, "—souls contain the feelings of a person. So when it is contained in an item that belongs to the said person, you can do things to them."

"So what we did is, we took those feelings from the soul using a specific charm—"

"—swapped the feelings from the item into the other person's—"

"—and this is the part of why we needed them in such close range of each other—"

"—so the transport of the emotions would flow quicker—"

"—wasn't really a necessity though—"

"—and since it was a piece of a soul—"

"—the remnants go to the full part of the soul—"

"—and complete it—"

"—therefore enabling the person to feel the other person—"

"—in a matter of speaking." Finished Charlie.

Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Neville gaped at them. "Wow," said Harry finally, "Fred and George really take after you."

"They copied us. Little buggers."

**_finite_**

I hope you had a good New Year's! A FRUITFUL '06 TO ALL!


	7. Just a stupid, bloody dream

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Seven: Just a stupid, bloody dream**

_Ron, Ron, Ron. _Ron's eyes snapped open. It was about two o' clock in the morning, he reckoned. And he swore he could hear his name being mentioned.

_He really is sweet. Better than that McLaggen… I wonder what he'd say if he found out I only went out with McLaggen to make him jealous… well, I'll just have to keep staying mad with him. If I don't, who knows what I'd do… _Ron shook his head wildly. He could hear _Hermione_, but not in words, per se. It was in his mind; but he couldn't stop it. This wasn't a dream! _I wish I had Ron instead…_ Ron pinched himself, as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

He'd heard stuff about this before. Mind-sharing or something. He'd read it off one of the odd books Hermione was always pushing him to read, but he never really believed it. Hermione couldn't be thinking of him! Why would she?

_Face it, Hermione. You can't have Ron; he hates you! _Ron shook his head wildly. He had to get these thoughts out of his head sometime! He covered his ears with his pillow, and tried to go to sleep. _Why can't Ron see that I like him? I'm obvious enough—maybe I should stop. I'm plain, ugly, too-smart-for-my-own-good, bushy-haired Hermione. What would he like about me?_

-x-

Hermione, in the meanwhile, was having a fitful dream. _Hermione can't be thinking of me…_Hermione turned over, her eyebrows knitted together. _Why would she? She's much too good for me… _Hermione's eyes jerked open. She heard her voice. _Hermione's way too perfect… how can I ever be good enough for her?_ The voice—well, it wasn't a voice; it was more of a thought—had a vague sound to it. She felt as though she had heard it somewhere before. _This is just a dream. Right. Wake up! It can't be. I'm already awake!_ Hermione racked her head. Ron! That was it. The voice—the thought—was Ron! But how?

It _had_ to be some kind of prank. That was it. Ron Weasley would never think of her—he hated her! Hermione shivered. It was _way_ too cold in the dormitories nowadays. There would be a fire in the common room! Yes, she'd go down. Warm up a bit, and forget about all her worries.

_-x-_

_Ron would never in his right mind think about me!_ Ron blinked. He waited for more thoughts to bombard his head, but nothing came. So he sat for a moment in his bed, gathering the blanket around himself. It was cold. _Bloody_ cold, as he'd normally say. Damn this stupid winter! "I'll just go downstairs," he mumbled to himself. "At least the fireplace blazes all the blasted winter."

-x-

"Ron?"

"Hermione!"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, their jaws practically sweeping the floor.

"What are you doing here?" they both said at the same time. Hermione recovered and looked Ron up and down. "You can go first," she said testily.

"Well, it's just really cold upstairs in the boys' dormitories," he said offhandedly. "And I knew there was a fireplace downstairs that was burning, so I decided to come—"

"—warm up a bit," said Hermione softly. "Me too."

The two stared at each other and simultaneously went for the same armchair. Ron stopped, shook his head, and veered off toward the sofa. "Still mad at me, huh," said Ron after a pause.

Hermione looked at her feet, which were covered in fluffy bunny slippers. "I'm sorry," she heard Ron say. "For whatever I did to make you do… this."

Hermione looked up. "Do what?"

"Go out with McLaggen."

"You did not force me to go out with McLaggen," Hermione fairly yelled, her voice almost screeching. "It's not like every decision I make revolves around you,Ronald Weasley!"

Ron inwardly cringed. How did he always manage to say the wrong thing? "Sorry, Hermio—"

Hermione huffed. "And I suppose you know where my ARITHMANCY book is, right?"

Ron shook his head wildly. "No, I don't! I sent it to you by owl-post, I swear!"

Hermione sighed. She always, _always_ had to pick a fight with Ron. Why? He did nothing wrong to her. She had to go upstairs, or she'd end up back in detention for 'use of Muggle defense'. "I'm going upstairs," she said heavily. "Night."

"Good night." Ron watched her go.

-x-

"HARRY!" Harry was woken up unceremoniously by Ron, who was shaking him back and forth insanely. "Harry, something's happened to me, Harry, I think I'm going insane. Harry—"

"Ron," Harry shoved Ron off gently, and spoke impatiently, "the proper thing to say to a sleeping person if you _have_ to wake them up is 'Good Morning'?"

"Good morning," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

"Good. Now what is it?"

"Harry, I—I can hear Hermione's thoughts."

Harry eyed him, almost smiling, but keeping the corners of his mouth down in time. "You can, huh," he said. Ron nodded wildly. "Ron, I think you were just dreaming. You can't have possibly heard Hermione's thoughts. It sounds like something that old bat would say."

Ron made a squeak that died off somewhere in his throat. "But I know I did—"

"I'm sure you did, Ron," said Harry, turning his head so Ron wouldn't see the smile that finally broke through. "Come on," he said, dressing in his robes, "let's go get breakfast." Ron nodded helplessly.

-x-

Hermione was already downstairs and eating a bowl of porridge when Ron and Harry walked into the Great Hall. Naturally, her eyes darted towards Ron first, and she felt her cheeks begin to warm. She began to shovel as much porridge down her throat, and yanked Harry's robes by the neck, pulling him to the outside of the Great Hall.

Ron looked after them suspiciously.

"Harry," she said, out of breath. "I—" (pant) "could" (pant) "hear" (pant) "Ron's thoughts," (pant pant)

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really, now," he said. "How sure are you that these were Ron's thoughts, though?"

Hermione took several gulps of air before replying. "I could hear his voice inside my head," she said. "And… he was thinking about me."

"Are you sure you weren't just dreaming, Hermione?" asked Harry, wearing a look of feigned concern. "Maybe you _do_ need the hospital wing…"

Hermione stared at him. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe she _was_ going insane. "You're probably right, Harry," she said. "Just a stupid, bloody dream. Sorry for bothering you." And with that, she hoisted her books into the crook of her arm and walked up the steps to go to class.

Finally alone, Harry bent over double and laughed.

-x-

"Bill! Charlie! You two are brilliant!" said Harry, gusting into an empty teacher's office Bill and Charlie were using for rooms.

"How's it going," asked Bill excitedly. Charlie sat up straighter in his chair.

"Both of them lassoed me separately—"

"Lassoed?" asked Charlie curiously. "What's—ow! What was that for, Bill?"

Harry coughed. "They _got_ me separately and both of them looked at them as though they were insane. It was great."

"You didn't tell them you knew though, did you?" asked Bill.

Harry shook his head. "Good boy," said Charlie, grinning.

"Wait 'til the others hear about this," said Harry, satisfied.

At that moment, the door flung open, and Seamus, Dean, and Neville ran inside. "You two are _geniuses_!" said Seamus, looking at them in awe.

"So, you heard them?" asked Harry, looking at them and grinning.

"Yep," said Dean. "Looks like Neville will be a godfather _pretty_ soon."

Bill and Charlie looked at each other. "But what about us?"

**_finite_**


	8. Are you jealous yet?

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Eight: Are you jealous yet?**

"Can you believe it," groaned Ron to Harry as they walked out of the Great Hall carrying a load of books. "Potions with the Slytherins and afterward, History of Magic. The two absolute _worst _subjects you could start a day out with." He tossed his schedule over his shoulder unceremoniously and stomped up the stairs.

"No," said Harry, picking up the schedule and scanning the page. "Damn! You're right. Did you know, it's _Double_ Potions we have to do today?" he stuffed the schedule into his book bag and walked up the stairs behind Ron.

"Yeah, I knew, but I didn't want to hurt my throat," he heard Ron grumble. Wanting to laugh, but not having the mood to muster it up, Harry compromised by producing a dry cough, before stumping up the stairs in annoyance.

_-x-_

_And there they are, late as ever. When will those two ever learn that punctuality is very important to their academic career?_ Ron blinked. No, more mind-sharing, or whatever the hell it was called—he wasn't even sure if it was real anymore. It must be just some crazy thing he ate yesterday—he remembered the twins had passed him the plate of hors d'oeuvres and then cackle to each other—that was it! Either that or he was going insane.

"Potter, Weasley," cut in the silky voice of Professor Snape. "You're late. Again. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Sit down and set up your cauldrons." Harry and Ron gave each other looks that clearly said, "I thought we were on time! It's your fault!" but in a good natured way. "Today," said Snape, "we will be making Essence of Envy. Does anybody know what this potion can do?" Hermione's hand swept the air faster than the speed of lightning, but she wasn't the only one. "Yes, Nott?" said Snape, evidently relieved that he didn't have to call on Hermione.

"The Essence of Envy," he said in a bored voice, "is a powerful potion that seeps jealousy into anyone who takes a sip of it. Anyone who is already jealous or angry at a significant other only has to smell it to feel its effect."

"Wonderful," Snape sneered. "Thirty points to Slytherin."

"He never awards points to us when Hermione gets answers right," Ron muttered to Harry. Harry nodded absentmindedly.

"The instructions will be on the board like so—" Snape slapped the blackboard with his wand and the instructions (and there were a lot) appeared—"and you have one hour and forty five minutes. The last fifteen minutes I will use to collect samples and test them. Your supplies are in the cupboard, nothing new. Begin." He then sat down at his desk gulping in a lot of air.

_Get the powdered unicorn horn and mix it with three equal parts of crushed beetle… _Ron's head snapped up. It didn't matter if it was really Hermione that was in his head, might as well take its advice. Some advice was better than none, right? And he had no idea what to do anyway. He got out the unicorn horn and crushed beetles and got to work.

-x-

Ron was pleased. His potion was the exact color of emerald green that Snape had instructed they should have by now. He could already smell the rich smell of Galleons, just fresh from the bank, like Bill had often described.

_Oh, poor Neville, he looks so lost! Maybe I should help him… _Ron looked in Hermione's direction, and sure enough, she was moving around her cauldron and making a beeline towards Neville. Jealousy shot up through Ron like the crack of a riffle. The smell of all the potions was intoxicating him, and Harry noticed that Ron was sitting on the very edge of his seat, looking rather like a bloodhound on a hunt.

"Ron? Ron?" Harry poked Ron in the shoulder with his wand. "_Ron_!"

"Eh? What?"

Harry pointed at Ron's chair and position, after which Ron promptly fell off.

"Mr. Weasley!" Snape barked from the other end of the classroom. "I hope you are doing your own work, or I hear that a certain _professor_ who teaches a certain _class_ will get mad at a _certain redhead_ and take of a certain _fifty points_ if they don't do their work!"

"_Certain_ly, Professor," said Ron, in a mocking manner, which Snape thankfully missed.

"Dimwitted as you are," Snape said in a low voice, "you _can_ manage to—" he passed by Ron's potion, and seeing nothing to insult, coughed casually and commanded, "Do your own work, Weasley." Seamus, Dean, and Neville grinned at him from the opposite wall. Ron grinned back, but upon seeing Neville, his smile promptly fainted off his face. Neville noticed it, and flushed a bit, and was interrupted by Hermione, who had come over to help.

Ron's eyes flashed green—possibly an overdose on Essence of Envy—and didn't hear Snape's yells or the deduction of fifty points.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Granger! What did I just tell Weasley about his _own work_? Now the rest of you! You still have forty-five minutes to work! You all will be absolutely _silent_. No speaking! Or there will be detentions—" his face twisted into an insane picture of absolute madness—"for all of you!" he threw his head back and laughed.

The class tried very hard to ignore this.

_Mix counterclockwise, add an equal part of gryphax to a half portion of ember… stir twice clockwise and five times counterclockwise, a pinch more of gryphax and five equal strips of flobberworm skin… _Ron did all of this, not caring whether these were really Hermione's thoughts or not. But as the class continued on, he believed more and more that it was really Hermione's mind he was sharing.

_Oh, look at Neville. I really wish I could help him… what a darling, so sweet and nice too! _Ron felt as though his brain cracked. "Oh, that's right," he said loudly. "Thinking of _Neville_ again, are you?"

"Ron—" Harry hissed.

"Is that all you think of during Potions class? Why don't you two just go off and marry?"

Hermione was looking at Ron, her face a picture of disbelief. Ron started stalking towards her, and Snape even stood up, not wanting his classroom to be a mess with potion scattered across the floor.

"You—"

"Weasley! Sit down!"

"Can't you stop flirting with him just once!"

"I said, _sit down_!"

"What are you talking about, Ronald?"

"You know perfectly well—"

"Sit down or I'll expel you!"

"You don't own me, Ron!"

"Maybe I don't, but—"

"Fifty points from Gryffindor!"

"Ron, Hermione, shut up!"

"But what? Just because I'm a woman and you're a man doesn't give you dominance over me!"

"Oh, so I'm a man now?"

"If you don't stop yelling, it's fifty more!"

"Ron, Hermione, please—"

"Would you just stop acting like a wh—"

"What? Like a what, really?"

"No more dinner for the both of you!"

"Ron, stop! Hermione, ignore him—"

"I have every right to do what I did, whatever it was, Ronald Weasley!"

"And what makes you think so?"

"_Silencio_!"

Harry finally got impatient. The plan wasn't going at all like he expected!

For once, Snape was glad of Harry's reaction. "Good work, Potter," he said, although it obviously caused him great physical work to say so. "Weasley, Granger, an additional thirty-five points from Gryffindor. You have already cost yourself your dinner privileges and more points from Gryffindor than you can probably calculate, so if you really want a war against you from your fellow Gryffindors, I suggest you two sit down and continue working on your potions."

Ron and Hermione glared daggers at each other, but resentfully obeyed Snape.

"Fifteen minutes to go."

**_finite_**


	9. Ooh, that looks dreadful

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Hi there! I know, I'm probably as surprised as you are. But I finished all my homework quickly, and was thinking of this plot all throughout volleyball practice, so by the time I got home, I was itching to write it and it just spilled out through my fingers. I hope you enjoy this particular update.

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Nine: Ooh, that looks dreadful**

"Harry, Ron and I are really sorry."

It was evening, and Harry was trying to ignore Hermione.

"Please, Harry? We won't fight again," Hermione persisted.

"All right, all right," Harry grumbled, "but next time, would you please stop fighting in public? It drives everyone mad…"

"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly. "Me and Hermione aren't fighting anymore."

"You better not be," said Harry darkly. "Now c'mon, let's go down to the Great Hall to eat. I'm starving."

"Yeah," said Ron enthusiastically.

-x-

Ron and Hermione had already gotten a plate of food and were about to dig into it when suddenly they felt something hard rap against their heads. "Weasley, Granger!"

Ron groaned, and Hermione put her forehead on the table.

"No dinner privileges, remember?" mocked Snape, holding his wand up threateningly. "Maybe next time, you'll get it through your thick skulls that you must not roughhouse or display public displays of affection in my classroom."

"Public displays of wha—?" Started Hermione, but Snape was already strutting up to the large teachers' table in the front of the Great Hall, wearing a smirk.

"Evil git," muttered Ron, annoyed, pushing his loaded plate aside, where it immediately disappeared.

"If you just didn't come on at me like a raging bull for no reason, Ron, maybe this wouldn't have happened to us!" replied Hermione, also pushing her plate off to the side. "What was that for, anyway?"

"For being a—"

"Ron, leave it," said Harry angrily. "I thought you and Hermione weren't fighting anymore—?"

However, the two didn't seem to hear him. "You could've just ignored me!" raged Ron. "You know what, I loathe you."

"Why, exactly, Ronald?"

"You're too smart, you're way better than me, you're a good friend, you always know what you're doing, you're confident, you're loyal, a lot of other guys like you, you make good porridge—"

Harry stared at Ron. "What was that you said, Ron?"

Hermione simply looked at him. "You're raving, you know that, Ron?"

"She makes good porridge," Ron said quickly. "And—"

"No, no, before that," said Harry impatiently.

"I've never made porridge before, Ronald," Hermione said, slowly.

"A lot of other guys like he—" Ron paused, and clapped his hands over his mouth. "Oh no," he moaned.

"No they don't," said Hermione, taking out her Ancient Runes textbook. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, they do," moaned Ron. "As you said, I was raving…"

"Of course you were," said Hermione, for some reason sounding sad.

Harry snickered quietly and continued eating.

-x-

Bill and Charlie, meanwhile, were doing a bit of spying. They were informed by Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Harry about Cormac McLaggen, who had supposedly attempted rape on Hermione. The two were suspicious about this character—how come that bloke hadn't had his comeuppance yet?

"There he is," whispered Charlie to Bill, pointing to the right side end of the long Gryffindor table. "He looks normal enough."

"Yeah," muttered Bill, "but look at his eyes—they keep darting everywhere. The first sign of a suspicious suspect."

"Er…" said Charlie, not knowing what to say. "Right. Well, we'll have to teach him a lesson, right?"

"They can't dock points off of Gryffindor because of us. We're already out of school!"

"Exactly," said Charlie, aiming the wand at McLaggen carefully. "We'll have him eating out of our hands by the end of the semester."

Bill aimed his wand at McLaggen as well.

-x-

McLaggen, meanwhile, was eating his food sulkily by himself. He thought Hermione and he had hit it off well, and to top it off, he was getting jealous of that _Ron_ character. Hermione seemed to like him a lot more than she liked him—if she liked him at all—and after spending time with her, he started to feel a little possessive. It must've been that Essence of Envy from earlier. He was feeling _very_ jealous. It wouldn't do.

"Cormac—" said Hannah Abbot from the Hufflepuff table behind him. "Your… hair…"

"What?" asked McLaggen, instinctively raising his hand to cover his head. "What's wrong with it?"

Instead of answering, Hannah Abbot and a few of her Hufflepuff friends doubled over the table and laughed. "What?" McLaggen repeated, starting to feel a little distressed.

"Sorry," said Hannah, in between bouts of laughter, "its just… you have to look to see for yourself!"

McLaggen took off running to the boys' bathroom, and didn't notice two redheads chuckling and patting each other's back in the corner of the Great Hall.

-x-

McLaggen almost screamed when he saw his reflection, but choked it back just in time. His hair had somehow grown shoulder length, and was french-braided. Finally, at the tips of his curly golden locks, he had—

"Bows!" McLaggen felt the top of his head all around, but it did not feel any different. "Pink!" he screeched. He glared at his reflection angrily.

It was indeed an Illusion Charm, the same spell he had used to make a Firewhisky look like a harmless glass of gillywater. He did not know the countercharm to take off the braided look, and he knew for a fact that Illusion Charms did not wear off for a good three hours.

"I can't just sit in here for three hours," he whined, sliding down the wall into a sitting position. "_Everybody_ will see me."

"Ooh, that looks _dreadful_," said the skimpy voice of a girl. McLaggen jumped and looked around. "Twitchy little devil, aren't you," said the voice teasingly.

It was Moaning Myrtle. By now, mostly everybody knew who she was.

"This is a boys' bathroom, Myrtle," said McLaggen irritably.

"Hark who's talking," the ghost said cheekily, looking pointedly at his braids.

"Shut up," snapped McLaggen. "I didn't choose to have these, all right? They're not even real. It's just an illusion charm."

However, Myrtle had already screeched out, "GIRL IN THE BOYS' BATHROOM! GET HIM—HER—IT—OUT OF HERE IMMEDIATELY!"

"Speak for yourself, you're a girl too!"

"No, I'm not," said Myrtle, starting to sob. "I _was_ a girl. Now I'm _nothing_! GIRL IN THE BOYS' BATHROOM! HEEELLLLPPPP!"

McLaggen started to snap at Myrtle a bit more, but as if things couldn't get any worse, Peeves the Poltergeist zoomed in through the ceiling. "Ickle likkle girly, wanting to peeky weeky pie?" he said in a taunting voice.

"I'm a boy, you pathetic excuse of a ghost!" McLaggen yelled, his temper rising.

"Oh, really," simpered Peeves. "Why don't you turn aroundey and look in the mirror?"

McLaggen stood up and whirled around. "Oh, _no_!"

His facial features were already morphing quickly into feminine expressions, and his voice was getting higher by the minute. "This isn't an Illusion Charm!" he said in his simpering girlish voice.

Moaning Myrtle and Peeves threw back their transparent heads and cackled.

**_finite_**


	10. We'll see who cries at the end of term

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Ten: We'll see who cries at the end of term**

McLaggen was definitely cornered in. He stood staring at the two ghosts—well, one of them was a real ghost anyway. What was Peeves?—who were definitely dangerous at some point. He also knew that Myrtle was some sort of tattletale. He took a quick look at his reflection in the mirror—he definitely did not look like his own self anymore. He was rather pretty, he thought, so nobody would recognize him.

Between getting caught by Filch for "peeky weeky pie-ing in the boys' restroom," he decided to go outside and try to figure out the counter-curse to whatever curse hit him.

He told them to shut up and raced out the door as stealthily as he could.

-x-

Ron was stalking down the halls angrily. He felt as though Hermione really _did_ like Neville—and he didn't like the idea of that. "That's it!" he said loudly. A few students who were walking down the opposite way looked at him warily. "Sorry," he mumbled after them. He would pay Hermione back—he'd get a girl of his own!

-x-

"Ow!" McLaggen heard his girlish voice say.

"Ow! Bloody idiot females," he heard another voice say. It was that Ron character. The one that Hermione always seemed to talk about.

He was going to give him hell.

McLaggen raised his hand to punch Ron's guts out, but instead, his hand seemed to have a life of his own. He slapped him.

"What the bloody hell—" said Ron, outraged. "Oh," he said, looking at McLaggen with a weird expression.

This could be the girl that Ron would use! He would use her for some sort of payback, teach Hermione a lesson.

"Er," he said intelligently, looking at McLaggen's red and gold striped tie, "are you in Gryffindor?"

"Yes," snapped McLaggen in an irritated (not to mention girly) voice. "What's it to you?"

"Just asking," said Ron, his temper rising. _This girl acts just like Hermione!_ He thought to himself. _Which reminds me—_"There's a Hogsmeade weekend this Saturday," he said, successfully hiding the annoyance in his voice, "would you like to come with me?"

McLaggen stared at him in disgust. Ron thought he was a girl! He looked around at all of the students rushing down the halls to get to their Common Rooms for the night. If he told him that he was really McLaggen, he'd really be in trouble.

"_Fine_," he said, glaring at Ron, who missed his expression. "Not that I would want to. Now let's just get out of here."

"But don't you want to come up to the Common Room with me?" asked Ron, slipping his arm around McLaggen's shoulders with a forced enthusiasm. _Maybe Hermione'll see?_

McLaggen picked Ron's arms away from his shoulders and flung them away with disgust. "Whatever," he said, hating his girlish voice. "Let's just go." He didn't notice Ron sighing in relief.

-x-

"Are you okay, Hermione?" asked Harry in a concerned voice. "I know Ron can be a great prat at times—"

"He's a prat all the time," said Hermione irritably, rubbing at her eyes. "I _hate_ him."

"Harry!" called a voice. "Hey, over here!"

It was Seamus. Harry looked at Seamus and Hermione and shook his head. "Hermione, I'll see you in the Common Room, okay?" He ran off before Hermione could protest.

Hermione shook her head and stomped up the stairs alone. _If Hermione really _is_ acting around Neville like I think she is, then I'll get a girl of my own!_ Hermione shook her head again. Was this Ron's voice again? And—what was that he thought? He'd get a girl of his own?

"Hermione? Hey—Hermione?"

Hermione whirled around. Neville. The very boy she wanted to see. "Oh!" she said, her voice coming out silkier than she meant to. "Neville!"

"Yeah," said Neville, walking up the stairs clutching a stitch in his side. "Those stairs are bigger than I thought."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. They kind of remind me of those big stairs in Madame Puddifoot's. She has stairs leading up to an extra attic."

"Madame Puddifoot's? The one in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes. By the way," she said, trying her best to sound as off hand as she could, "it's another Hogsmeade weekend this Saturday. Do you want to come?"

Neville looked surprised. "Hogsmeade—with you?"

"Sure!" said Hermione, patting him on the shoulder, "I mean, you're really nice, and I really need to know you a bit more."

"Yeah," said Neville, shrugging, "we don't really talk much, do we?"

"No." _There you go, Ronald. We'll see who's cries at the end of term._ "So—this Saturday?"

"Well, okay—" started Neville, looking over his shoulder. "Sorry, Seamus is calling me. Bye, Hermione."

"See you, Neville," said Hermione, watching him trip down the stairs.

-x-

"Great job, Neville," whispered Dean, thumping Neville heavily on the back.

"Yeah," said Charlie, from the corner of the room. "The third phase of—"

"—our magnificent plan," said Bill, with a flourish.

"I must say that hitting McLaggen with a Gender Confusing Charm was brilliant," said Seamus. "I didn't know that that even existed."

"Yeah," said Neville. "I didn't even know—ow!"

Dean silenced Neville with a sharp kick in the shin. "I was watching Ron upstairs. He even asked him—I mean, _her_, out. This will actually be kind of fun."

"We have to be careful though," said Harry reluctantly. "Some plans tend to backfire."

"Not ours," said Charlie, with a glint in his eye. "Eh, Bill?"

"Eh, Charlie!"

**_finite_**


	11. A double date in Madam Puddifoot's attic

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to Angela. This story would have never been possible without her!

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Eleven: ****A double date in Madam Puddifoot's attic**

"So you want two coffees, one with milk and strawberry crème and the other with caramel, yes?"

"That's right, Madam."

"Ten Sickles."

It was Saturday morning, and Hermione and Neville were at Madam Puddifoot's ordering some coffee. Hermione was standing at the small table that served as a counter at the front of the small shop, while Neville was paying for the coffee, his eyes darting around the shop, as if he was wary of something.

"Thanks," said Hermione, taking her mug from Neville and maneuvering her way through the cramped shop to the stairs. "Come on, Neville!"

Neville took one last look at the shop door and followed Hermione up to the attic.

"These are the stairs you were talking about?" asked Neville, starting to clutch his side, miraculously not spilling a drop of his caramel coffee.

"Well, yes," said Hermione. "A few centuries ago, Hogwarts used the attic of Madam Puddifoot's shop—"

"I didn't know Madam Puddifoot was that old," said Neville, his eyes as round as marbles.

"Er—well, this wasn't a coffee shop before, Neville," said Hermione, taking a sip of her coffee. "_Hogwarts: A History_ didn't clearly state what this shop used to be, but I could tell that past Headmasters and Headmistresses used it as a storage area. Apparently, it once had a secret tunnel leading from Hogwarts to here, but in Chapter XXVIII, some ex-Azkaban prisoners managed to get into the tunnel and—"

"I thought the only one to ever escape Azkaban was Sirius Black," said Neville, looking anxious. "I really need to learn more…"

"No, Neville, they were released, really, but they still had—"

"How did we start talking about this, Hermione?"

There was a pause.

"Er—I don't know?"

There was another pause.

Then, Madam Puddifoot's voice floated up the stairs. "Ah! You must be a Weasley—yes, countless times have I served your brothers who also came here with dates. I must say, you have a pretty one too—although not the girl I seemed to expect—what can I get you?"

Hermione froze.

-x-

Ron Weasley was feeling very nervous, not knowing what to do with his hands or feet. He knew Hermione was in Hogsmeade somewhere—he heard her tell Harry that 'with any luck, she'd see him there'. Not wanting to appear dodgy to his date, who, unbeknown to him was McLaggen, but constantly on the lookout for Hermione, he just decided to drag his date into a shoppe where he thought Hermione would never go.

"Coffee?"

"Er, yes, coffee," said Ron, trying his best not to turn around and look up the street. "Why not? It's morning, and it's really cold—"

Hand on hip. "I don't have a say in this?" Inwardly, McLaggen slapped himself for acting so feminine. He would give whoever did this to him hell, he'd see to that.

_Hermione wouldn't be this picky_, thought Ron to himself reminiscently. _But wait—maybe she would. I dunno. Haven't seen her in a while_…

"I don't even know your name," he heard himself snap out. "So—"

"Then why'd you ask me to go with you to Hogsmeade so quickly, eh?" McLaggen snapped back, inwardly slapping himself again.

"Well," Ron said awkwardly, "what's your name?"

"Cor—" started McLaggen. Remembering that he couldn't reveal himself to Ron because they were currently in the middle of a pack of cold people, he caught himself quickly. "—nelia. Cornelia M—Cornelia Em."

Ron stuck out his hand, not really knowing what to do. "Well, I'm Ron."

"I _know_," snapped 'Cornelia,' ignoring his outstretched hand. "So now you know me, let's just get our coffee quickly. I hate all this noise."

Another inward slap.

"So do I," said Ron, covering his ears. "It's like when my two twin brothers stay up all night working on something like Weasley Whizzbangers. There's an attic in that coffee shop. It'll be quiet. Come on."

Ron and Cornelia managed to squeeze in between the closely-knit tables to the large-ish table in the front of the shop. "Hi, Madam Puddifoot," said Ron, grunting, picking himself off of the floor. "Bloody flower vase in the way," he muttered.

Thankfully, Madam Puddifoot didn't seem to notice. "Ah! You must be a Weasley!" she said rather loudly. "Yes, countless times have I served your brothers who also came here with dates. I must say, you have a pretty one too—although not the girl I seemed to expect," she added under her breath. "What can I get you?"

"Just two small coffees. Extra warm? It's bloody cold outside."

"You got it, little Weasley."

McLaggen scanned the small, cozy shop quickly. It was too _pink_, there was too much _love_, and he was with the idiot _Ron Weasley!_ He had to find a way out of here.

-x-

"Up to the attic, then?" Ron asked Cornelia handing 'her' 'her' steaming mug of creamed coffee.

"S'long as it's quiet," Cornelia muttered. 'Her' brain was starting to hurt from all of the noise that seemed to float through his ears from everywhere.

"Let's go."

-x-

"Hermione?" Neville tapped Hermione uncertainly on the shoulder. Hermione's eyes were slightly unfocused, although they seemed to be staring in the general direction of the staircase. Neville turned around. "What are you looking a—oh. Hey, Ron!"

Ron stared at Neville, as though he'd never seen him before. His eyes widened a bit. However, he just shook his head and turned around, escorting a pretty girl up from the staircase without replying.

Hermione felt her heart jump up to her throat.

"—you okay? Those stairs are longer than I thought they would be…"

"Illusion charms," said the pretty girl, for some reason glaring at the floor. "I know much about those. Those stairs must be charmed to look shorter."

_Show-off_, Hermione thought to herself.

-x-

Cornelia tried to finish 'her' coffee off as quickly as 'she' could, in attempts to get out of the quaint coffee shop as soon as possible.

"I have to go," she said, spluttering, as she tried to drink coffee at the same time.

"Why's that?" asked Ron, looking at Hermione through his peripheral vision. She seemed to be enjoying herself. _What does Neville have that I don't?_ He wondered.

"Er," said 'Cornelia', thinking furiously. "I have. A test…?"

_Just like a Hermione._ "In what subject?"

"Er—er—Arithmancy!" Cornelia blurted out.

Ron grinned, and raised his voice up a notch. "Well, you won't need to hurry, _sweetie_," he said, milking it for all it was worth and drawing something from inside his cloak. "You can use this."

"What's that?" asked Cornelia, ready to pounce out of the squashy pink loveseat she was sitting on once she received the gift.

"Just an Arithmancy book I found."

**_finite_**


	12. Revenge won't go well with your stomach

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

**Twelve: Revenge won't go well with your stomach**

Neville nearly toppled off is chair. If Ron gave away Hermione's Arithmancy book, Bill and Charlie's plans would be ruined!

He stole a glance at Hermione. Her face was calm and displayed no signs of indifference, however her posture had become rigid and she was sipping her coffee with loud slurps. Upon close examination, there were two very small frown lines that graced the skin between Hermione's eyebrows.

"What's this?" Neville heard the pretty girl say.

Neville squinted a bit. Hadn't Ron just told her that it was an Arithmancy book he "found"'? This girl seemed like a fake to him—if he knew anything about girls.

Ron seemed oblivious. "As I said, it's an Arithmancy book I found. You can study it right now, so you won't have to leave." He raised his voice even higher. "We can spend more time together."

Hermione seemed to cough on her drink, and set her coffee mug down with more force than she meant to. Wiping her mouth vehemently, she stood up. "I'll be back in a moment, Neville," she said, and she ran down the stairs.

-x-

"What's this?" Cornelia asked Ron, taking the Arithmancy book by the spine.

More inward slaps. How he would pay whoever cursed him!

Ron tried to keep his voice level, although now it was becoming close to an impossible feat. This girl was worse than five first-year Hermiones, and he was starting to wish he hadn't asked 'Cornelia' out to Hogsmeade with him. As an added plus, he could almost swear he saw 'Cornelia' staring at Hermione.

_That_ was a disconcerting thought.

"As I said, it's some Arithmancy book I found," he said, managing to keep himself from rolling his eyes in annoyance. "You can study it right now, so you won't have to leave." _Think about what Hermione's doing to you right now._ He raised his voice higher. "We can spend more time together." _Please say no, please say no…_

Ron's stomach clenched. What was he getting himself into?

He heard a chair scraping back violently across the floor, and Hermione's voice saying, "I'll be back in a moment, Neville."

Then he heard Hermione run down the stairs, and swore he heard some faint sniffs.

His stomach twisted painfully, but he couldn't help it. Weasley pride is a legendary thing.

-x-

McLaggen looked around at Longbottom and Hermione sitting not far away. He couldn't tell the idiot Weasley who he was! By now, he would either get outraged and blast him seven feet through the window or tell the school that he, McLaggen, was gay if he told him now; and even if he wouldn't have, Hermione would overhear. He didn't want that.

McLaggen's eyes flickered towards Hermione and rested his gaze on her one second too long. "—book I found," he heard Ron tell him.

Ron was holding out a book to him.

Not knowing what to do, and with the charm still having a feminine effect on him, he took the book gingerly by the spine saying, "What's this?"

Ron looked at him strangely. Had he noticed him looking at Hermione? He couldn't afford that right now.

"As I said, it's an Arithmancy book I found. You can study it right now, so you won't have to leave. We can spend more time together."

McLaggen looked nervously around the attic. He watched Hermione stand up and run from the attic—he wished he could go with her.

Once again, he held his gaze too long.

"Er—Cornelia? You okay?" _Damnit, Cornelia can't be lesbian. Hermione's too good for her own good. Wait. What am I saying?_

Damn. He saw him staring. "Yes, Ron…?"

-x-

Neville sighed and picked up his and Hermione's cups. It was pretty obvious that she wasn't coming back upstairs, so he might as well follow her down. "Er—bye, Ron," he said hesitantly, making his way towards the stairs.

Ron just glared at the table and made no reply.

Neville cleared his throat nervously and blundered down the stairs.

-x-

"Er, Madam Puddifoot? Have you seen Hermione—you know, the girl I was with earlier?" Neville handed the two empty mugs back to Madam Puddifoot, who was busy pointing her wand at a brewing jug.

"Lost her, have you dear?"

Neville blinked. "Er—well,"

Madam Puddifoot smiled knowingly at him. "She's in the bathroom. I think she's crying. You should wait outside the bathroom door."

Neville thanked her and turned to go, but Madam Puddifoot put her hand on his shoulder and stopped him. "Don't be too hard on her, dear."

"Hard on her?"

But Madam Puddifoot had turned her back on him and heard nothing from him. Neville shrugged and made his way to the bathrooms.

_-x-_

_Why am I doing this to Hermione? Why can't I just tell her—_Hermione's racking sobs interrupted the thought that was floating inside her head. Hermione couldn't tell if she was going insane or not. Was she really hearing Ron's voice, or was it simply caused from the lack of sleep?

Just as quickly as Hermione stopped crying, tears managed to squeeze out of her eyes. _Damnit, Cornelia can't be lesbian. _Ron. Everytime he did something cute, he did something rash and chauvinistic. _Hermione's too good for her own good. _Typical. Once he does something rash, on to something much cuter than before! _Wait. What am I saying?_

Ugh! Ron Weasley. She'd teach him a lesson—and get her Arithmancy book back too. How could he give it away? He ought to know how important that book was to her. In any other circumstance, Hermione would have felt afraid that her Arithmancy book wasn't with her, but no one could possibly... right. No point in thinking about that. But _Ron_.

Maybe Ron really was the rude, arrogant boy whom he always seemed to be.

She looked in the mirror and fixed her hair. _If that's how he'll play it,_ thought Hermione, _he can taste a bit of his own medicine!_

She patted her hair a little more, sniffed, and went outside to find Neville.

-x-

Ron was very deep in thought. While Cornelia was busy drowning herself in coffee, Ron was still thinking about Hermione's face when she left. His stomach was shifting nervously in guilt, and made him feel rather queasy.

And most importantly—why was Cornelia looking at Hermione like _that_?

"Cornelia? I'll be right back. I need to use the restroom." Ron stood up hastily from his seat and exited the attic.

Cornelia nodded, still gulping down coffee feverishly.

-x-

Ron hurried down to the bathroom, wanting to splash his face with some cold, icy water. Revenge didn't go well with his heart... or his stomach, to say that much.

Being too involved in his own thoughts, he hardly noticed Neville leaning on the wall, muttering something about, "messing up", "my fault", something about Trevor, his toad, and "plans".

He ran to the nearest bathroom door, and tried to wrench the door open, but found that it was locked. He turned to go to another bathroom, his hand still on the doorknob, when the door pushed open right into him.

Ron fell on the floor, and was about to snap something rude into the person's face, when he heard the person say—

"Ron?"

"Hermione?"

**_finite_**


	13. ARGH!

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Thirteen: ARGH!**

Neville half-grinned as he watched his two friends stare at each other in disbelief. He scrambled up and made his way out of the tea shoppe to find Harry, Seamus, and Dean.

"Harry! Seamus! Dean!" he yelled, tripping and tipping over a small coffee table. "Sorry," he panted towards the people using it, who were glaring at him.

He pushed open the shop door and spotted Harry talking to Seamus, Dean, Bill, and Charlie outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Harry! Hey… Harry!" Neville was running so quickly that he bulled right over Harry and smashed into the Quidditch Supply store wall.

Harry, meanwhile, found himself with his head shoved into the snow. "Grmm mfffph ouggga hrrerr!"

"What did you say, mate?" Seamus knelt down on the ground.

"Grmm mfffph ouggga hrrerr!" insisted Harry.

Bill, Charlie, and Dean knelt down beside Seamus and started pulling Harry out of the icy mess while Neville hovered nearby, muttering something that sounded eerily like, "Oh, my God. I killed Harry Potter."

"—heave!" yelled Bill, tugging on Harry's trainer while Seamus and Dean tried to sweep away the large pile of snow that had fallen off of the Quality Quidditch Supplies rooftop on top of Harry.

"Blimey, Neville, what did you have to tell Harry that was so important?" asked Dean, shoving snow off Harry and into the sidewalk.

"I got Ron and Hermione to bump into each other," he muttered. "But since you don't—"

"What?" asked Bill and Charlie in unison.

"Come on, Bill, we have to get there!" said Charlie, abandoning Harry's trainers and getting up. "Are they still in that old tea shoppe? Madam Puddifoot's?"

"They were, when I left," said Neville, nodding. "They were over at the bathrooms."

"The _bathrooms_?" asked Seamus incredulously. "What are they doing there?"

But before Neville could answer, Bill, Charlie, Seamus, and Dean ran off into the direction of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, leaving Harry muttering angrily inside the big pile of snow.

-x-

Ron looked at Hermione, his face a picture of surprise.

Hermione's face, he noticed, was composed, except for the tear stains that still decorated her face. Her hair was smoothed down and neater than earlier when they were in the attic.

"Oh, hi Ron," she said dryly. "Have you seen Neville?"

_How, that's how she'll play it, eh?_ "No, I haven't seen Neville. Did your hair scare him away?"

Hermione bristled. "You don't use that tone with me, Ronald."

"Sorry, _mom_," Ron retorted.

"I wouldn't like to be your mother right now, you great prat. Right now I actually feel sorry for her." _What did I ever do to you, Ron?_

"_What_ did you say about my mother, Hermione?" _I wish I could just tell you that I—_

"I didn't insult her, I insulted _you_." _I heard him think something. I have to be going crazy! Ah, bugger it, what was he about to say?_

"All right. Just tell me. What in the world did I do to you?"

"You—"

"Idiot coffee—stupid digestion…" came a voice from around the corner.

Ron turned around. It was Cornelia! Maybe he could use her to an advantage. He felt his stomach squirm with some guilt, but he ignored it.

-x-

"Oi! Bill! I found them!"

"Ah. Having a fight, are they?"

"Yes, they are brother. And here comes new-and-improved McLaggen."

"And look at Ron's face! I think we can use this to our advantage." Bill rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

"I'll take it you're thinking what I'm thinking?" asked Charlie, starting to draw his wand.

Bill reached under his winter coat and took out his wand too. "If I'm thinking that you're thinking what I'm thinking that you thought that I thought what you thought, then yes."

"Well, let's get to it!"

"Right."

-x-

"Oh, there you are, _dear_," said Ron, standing up and putting his arm around Cornelia.

"Er," said McLaggen, trying to get away from Ron's vise-like grip. "Ron, I really need to use the bathroom—"

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," said Ron loudly, drowning out Cornelia's words. "Let me apologize."

And Ron leaned in to kiss her.

-x-

"Now!" yelled Bill and Charlie. They aimed their wands at McLaggen.

-x-

"ARGH!" yelled Ron, pushing McLaggen away, right into Hermione.

"ARGH!" screamed Hermione, revolted that McLaggen was pushed into her.

"ARGH!" roared McLaggen, disgusted that Ron had almost kissed him.

"What happened?" demanded Ron. "Where's Cornelia? What are _you _doing here!"

"Why did you try to kiss me?" McLaggen said loudly, struggling to get off of the floor. "You could have at least upped your _game_..."

"Get off Hermione!" Ron interrupted loudly. "And _what_ did you do to Cornelia?"

-x-

"Good shot, brother," said Charlie, patting Bill's back, grinning in triumph.

"You too, brother," said Bill, ruffling Charlie's hair.

-x-

If things couldn't get worse enough, Neville scurried around the corner, right into Ron, McLaggen, and Hermione.

"Neville?" said Hermione in surprise, interrupting her fight with Ron and McLaggen and making her way towards Neville.

Ron and McLaggen just glared.

_**finite**_


	14. I'm drawn to you

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

**Fourteen: I'm drawn to you**

Cormac McLaggen sat on his four-poster bed, staring at the Arithmancy book Ron had given him. There was something about the flawless cover and the scratched-out handwriting that was on every other page, with the occasional deciphered 'on' and a heart or two.

Suddenly, it came back to him.

This was the Arithmancy book Ron had sent Hermione through owl-post last week! That was the last time he and Hermione had really talked to each other.

Snickering, he flipped a few pages in the Arithmancy book until he reached a specific page with a considerable amount of writing and calculations. Peering closely at the handwriting, he started to try deciphering it.

"On… damn, she can't be writing Ron's name on all the pages? Oh good, she's not, it's an oh-are-en—Ornyquartus… what? Is that some sort of spell? Hmmm… this could be good. Maybe I can use it to bring me and Hermione together. Yes—I'll try it."

McLaggen stood up and held his wand out before him, ignoring the other 7th year Gryffindor boys who were staring at him in confusion. "_Ornyquartus!_"

After an awkward silence, which McLaggen used to notice the slightly interested faces of his roommates, who had quieted down to see what McLaggen would do.

Suddenly—

"AHHH!" McLaggen started speeding out the door, but not of his own accord. To McLaggen, it felt as though something was pushing him. Or something was pulling him? It vaguely reminded him of the time he was confunded—to this day, he still didn't know who confunded him... but that wasn't the point.

The weird force kept McLaggen running full-speed into the Great Hall—past the startled teachers (poor Professor Flitwick flew a good 6-feet into the air as he sped past), and collided right into an annoyed Hermione, who was having a very interesting conversation with Neville about Muggle toe socks and squirrels.

"AHHH!" Hermione screamed. Neville stared blankly at what was happening. Hermione was on the floor, with McLaggen stirring feebly next to her.

"Cormac!" she said shrilly. "What are you doing!"

McLaggen glared at her. "I didn't do it on _purpose,_" he said testily. He got up to leave, but before he reached the door of the Great Hall, he couldn't move. The more he tried to fight against whatever weird force was acting on him, Hermione, who was behind him on the floor, inched toward the door as though tugged by her own invisible force.

Hermione looked at her feet, which seemed to be pulled on every other second, and gasped. "Cormac!" she said. "Did you use the Magnetic Love Curse?"

McLaggen turned around. "What?"

"The incantation is '_Ornyquartus_.'"

McLaggen turned around, gaping. "Er..."

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to compose herself.

McLaggen stalked towards her and shook Hermione by the shoulders. "What does the curse do?"

"The Magnetic Love Curse binds the caster magnetically to the object of his attraction," Hermione said robotically. "The caster and his attraction will be magnetically bound together, not being able to exceed more than six to seven feet from each other."

"So that means that we're stuck together?" asked McLaggen in alarm.

"Well, not _stuck_ together, per se," said Hermione, matter-of-factly. "But—"

"How do we get unstuck?" asked McLaggen. He _did _like Hermione a bit. Okay, a lot, but figuring out that being stuck together wasn't the best thing. Imagine being in the library 24/7! He'd rather not.

"The caster has to stop liking the person he or she is stuck to," said Hermione, kneading her fingers.

McLaggen looked at Hermione. There was a slight flush to her cheeks, making her flawless face even more beautiful. Her wild, bushy hair, as she liked to refer to it, hung around her face in beautiful curls. He couldn't fall _out_ of love with her. It was practically impossible.

He didn't even get started on her intelligence.

Hermione turned around to see where Neville had gotten to, but found he disappeared.

-x-

When Neville found out what curse McLaggen had used and what it did, he ran full speed into the Common Room, once again, looking for Harry, Seamus, Dean, Bill, and Charlie.

"Harry!" he yelled. Taking care not to get Harry stuck in the nearby pile of smelly Quidditch Robes, he skidded neatly next to him, panting, "Harry, Seamus, Dean, Bill, Charlie—something bad's happened…"

And of course, Neville couldn't skid 'neatly' beside Harry without tripping.

While Dean and Seamus helped Neville up, Bill and Charlie looked concerned. "Something bad's happened?" they asked. "Like what?"

Neville got to his feet and said, "Have you ever heard of the Magnetic Love Curse?"

"Yeah," said Charlie proudly. "Me and Bill invented that little beauty. We taught it to the twins as a prank, to see if they'd use it. Why?"

"McLaggen used it!" said Neville, his eyes bugging out slightly. "Now Hermione and him are stuck together!"

"Well, they're not stuck together, _per se_," Charlie started to say.

"What?" Bill interrupted. "McLaggen and Hermione are stuck together?"

Harry, Seamus, and Dean looked annoyed. "Why does that idiot have to ruin all of our perfect plans?"

"You mean the plans we plan that we plan for you to act out." Corrected Bill.

"Trifles," said Harry, waving an airy hand. "Well, what does this Magnetic Love Curse do?"

Bill and Charlie told them.

"And—didn't you say Hermione has McLaggen stuck to her?" Dean asked Neville.

"Yeah," Neville muttered.

"That means that McLaggen really _did_ like Hermione more than we thought!" said Harry, Seamus, Dean, Bill, and Charlie all together.

"It's going to be harder than we thought to get Ron and Hermione together before term ends, brother," said Charlie to Bill.

"We always weasel our way out of it, eh?" Bill said, laughing. Everyone laughed.

After a few moments of laughter, some angry voices could be heard outside the portrait hole. "Well, I didn't _ask_ you to cast the curse, now did I!"

"Well, why did you have that written in your book!"

"Why did you have my book?"

Bill looked at Charlie. "Showtime, bro."

"You got it," said Charlie, smirking.

**_finite_**


	15. Don't call me 'Mione

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

**Fifteen: Don't Call Me 'Mione**

Hermione burst through the Portrait Hole mere seconds before McLaggen, who looked as though he was being pulled along by puppet strings. "Who do you think you are, going through my book like that?"

McLaggen attempted to hold his ground, snapping back, "Technically, it's not _your_ book; Weasel Keeper gave it to me the other day."

"_Don't call him that._"

The two of them seemed to not see the company of people who were staring at them incredulously (the majority of them grinning like Chesire Cats).

"Why do you have to keep sticking up for him?"

"Well, why do you have to keep insulting him?"

Bill shook his head as he whispered, "I think our work is pretty much done, brother."

Charlie gazed at Bill in disbelief. "Of course not! Have they snogged yet? I don't think so."

At this, Bill nodded empathetically, already turning around to head up the stairs. "I'll get Ickle Ronniekins to come down; if Hermione and McLaggen show signs of stopping their argument, try to stir it up a little more. I'll be right down."

Charlie watched his older brother go up the Boys' Dormitory Staircase, and then looked at Hermione and McLaggen, who managed to become bright crimson in the face while bellowing at the other barely three feet away from each other.

"—was the one who got you into this mess!"

"No, he wasn't, you got yourself into this. You didn't have to read my book!"

"What's so special about the book _anyway_?"

"Nothing you need to know, _Cormac_."

"Lots of hearts, spells, crossed-out words—face it, 'Mione—_you were cheating on me!_"

The whole Common Room seemed to go quiet, save Hermione's mumbles of, "Don't call me 'Mione!" The first years by the fireplace stared at each other in bewilderment, not knowing what the silence was for, scattered Gryffindors staring at Hermione in confusion, and Harry and the others hurriedly stuffing their fists into their mouths to keep themselves from laughing.

_Hermione, cheating on McLaggen?_ Harry thought in amusement. _I always knew McLaggen was an insufferable git._

Hermione stared at McLaggen in disbelief. _Did he just say I _cheated_ on him? The nerve! We were never together to begin with. And besides, who would I cheat against him on?_

_-x-  
_

Upstairs, Ron lay buried under his four-poster bed covers, attempting to sacrifice himself.

_Did he just say I _cheated_ on him?_ Ron blinked and sat up. He could have sworn he just heard Hermione's voice echo in his head. Sighing and rumpling his hair, he waited a few moments and slumped back into the pillows again.

_The nerve! We were never together to begin with. And besides, who would I cheat against him on? _Even though it was against his will, Ron didn't even try to hold back the corners of his mouth that were beginning to curl up into a smile. So Hermione and McLaggen were never together, huh?

He swung his legs over the bed and stretched, even though he hadn't stayed in the bed very long. Rumpling his hair yet again, he opened the dormitory door to find Bill on the other side, poised to open the door as well. "Bill!" he said, in surprise. "What are you doing up here?"

Bill grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him toward the stairs. "Getting you," he said excitedly, "you have to watch this. This is even better than you and Hermione's spats."

"Wha—"

"No time for questions, move along."

-x-

Ron stood at the bottom of the staircase, watching Hermione mumble incomprehensible phrases at McLaggen, who was looking as large and annoying as ever.

"Found nothing to say, eh, 'Mione?"

Hermione simply stood there in front of McLaggen, furious, although she didn't know why she was so mad. "Don't," she said in between gritted teeth, "call—me—'Mione."

Ron looked on, pressing himself into the wall, as McLaggen drawled out, "'Mione," he said, taunting her. "'Mione, 'Mione. What's so wrong with that?"

_It's just a nickname, it's just a nickname,_ Hermione's voice chanted in Ron's head. _Dear God, I hate that nickname. It's the same name old Mr. Dunswithe used right when he used 'The Belt' on me. I still have the scars…_

"—'Mione, 'Mione, 'Mione—"

"Leave her alone!" Ron said loudly. "She told you not to call her that, what are you still doing it for?"

"You stay out of my business, Weasel Keeper," said McLaggen coldly, interrupting his chant.

"And you claim you love her,"mocked Ron scathingly, ignoring Hermione's whimpers of disapproval. "This is how you prove it?"

"I said," McLaggen said, looking dangerous, "to _stay out of my business._"

Hermione's eyes flickered between Ron and the oddly defiant look on his face, and McLaggen, whose crimson face outmatched Ron's hair and ears. "Ron, it's okay, I've got it—"

Ron, however, didn't seem to hear her. "Why should I keep out of my business, when you can't keep your own damn nose out of other people's? What with you snooping around in her book—"

"You _gave_ it to me!"

"I didn't know that you were McLaggen anyway," said Ron, backtracking a little. "I never thought I'd never see anyone I hated more than You-Know-Who or Percy, but I think I just did."

Bill, Charlie, Harry, Seamus, Dean, Neville's mouths scraped the floor. Nobody had ever said that to McLaggen and lived. Yet, anyway.

McLaggen glared daggers and Ron, and advanced dangerously at him, forgetting Hermione was bound to him magnetically. Caught off guard, she was dragged along helplessly. Once Hermione realized what was happening, her eyes widened in fear. "McLaggen, leave him alone!"

"Forget it, _'Mione_, I know what I'm doing."

Memories of a flashing belt and slight bleeding danced through Hermione's brain (as well as Ron's, who attempted to headbutt McLaggen, but was fortunately held back by friends), and she drew her wand. "_Don't call me 'Mione_, Cormac."

**_finite_**


	16. Wandy saves the day

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One

**Sixteen: Wandy saves the day  
**

McLaggen realized that he had pushed too many buttons when he saw Hermione advancing upon him with a wand. "Come on, it's just a nickname—"

Hermione shook her head. "I've tried to tell you that it's not just a nickname, Cormac. I've asked you ages to stop calling me that!"

"I'm sorry, all right?"

Hermione looked at him apologetically. "I am too, but, I really—" she shook her head. The Belt swooshed down upon her in her mind, a drunken voice cackling, "You are too smart for your own good, _'Mione_…'

Hermione took careful aim with her wand and shot a non-verbal spell at McLaggen, who, being magnetically bound to Hermione couldn't run away.

McLaggen watched in mute horror as he watched a ray of golden light hit him squarely in the chest, causing him to fall backwards (pulling Hermione after him). After a moment, he started feeling himself all around, as if looking for some damage. After patting his crotch and finding nothing out of order, he sneered at Hermione in a very un-Gryffindor-ish manner and laughed. "You're losing your touch, 'Mi—Hermione. Shouldn't that have Obliviated my memory or given me Jelly-Legs or something in that Quidditch pitch?"

However, Hermione seemed satisfied with the jinx that had hit him, standing up and dusting herself off neatly. "Well, that spell isn't quite anything of that sort, Cormac. You see, it doesn't take immediate effect, and it doesn't wear off for a very long time. Nope."

Bill and Charlie looked at each other in surprise, then nodding as they confirmed each other's mental question. "She did it, younger brother," Bill whispered in awe.

"But that's such a difficult charm to do…" Charlie replied, equally astonished.

"What did she do?" McLaggen asked, alarmed by the two brothers' tone of voice.

"Er, well," started Bill, "you really have to figure it out for yourself, see. It should be taken into effect by lunch tomorrow—"

"—and all of your questions will be answered," Charlie said mysteriously.

Then laughing together in an insane, yet civilized sort of way, the two left the Gryffindor Common Room.

McLaggen turned aside and lowered his voice, muttering to nobody in particular, "I'm nervous."

-x-

The next day at lunch, Hermione appeared to be dragging McLaggen into the Great Hall, an inexplicable smirk crossing her face. McLaggen, on the other hand, was looking extremely reluctant about having to go to lunch, the expression on his face clearly stating that he wished he could turn back time.

"Not having lunch won't affect what will happen to you," said Hermione grimly, her face the complete opposite of her voice. "The jinx goes into effect at lunch _time_, not just lunch."

McLaggen grumbled. "You didn't have to jinx me," he said sulkily.

"Was it enough to make you stop liking me, then?" asked Hermione in curiosity.

They did an experimental tug to see if it had.

"Nope."

Hermione sighed, then flipped her bushy hair back off of her face. "Oh. Well then. Come on, Cormac, Ron and Harry are waiting for us inside."

"So you're friends with the Weasel Keeper again now, huh?"

"Just shut up for a minute, Cormac, I don't want you and Ron at each other's throats."

"So you are?"

"_Shut up, Cormac._"

McLaggen shoved his hands in his robe pockets, obeying Hermione resentfully, only because he knew what jinxes Hermione was capable of.

"But—" McLaggen persisted, obviously unable to keep his mouth shut, "why can't I sit with my own friends?"

"Well, I suppose you'll have to work it out," said Hermione snappishly. She could have sworn she heard a muttered curse word in response.

-x-

Minutes later, Cormac sat drolly on the table with Hermione, Harry, and Ron, drumming his fingers on the wood, trying to sit as far away from the trio as possible.

Automatically, he did another experimental tug—to see if he still liked-slash-loved Hermione, but to his horror, and because of his strong tug, Hermione flew off of her seat right into McLaggen's lap.

"You—" Hermione started to say, but was interrupted by Ron's furious ad libs.

"_You—_" he began, but Hermione cut him off.

"Ronald, I have it," she said impatiently. Sighing, she turned back to McLaggen. "You are trying to do either one of two things. One, you are trying to seduce me. Again. I tell you, it won't happen." She shook her head, repeating and emphasizing her last three words. "It. Won't. Happen." Then, switching back to her normal brisk voice—"Two, you are experimenting to see if we could have been broken apart. Tugs, I presume. So again, it's either one of the two, and I must admit I prefer you choose the latter."

"I choose the latter. Just because _he's_ sitting across the table," he added in a whisper. Noticing that Ron had heard, he hurriedly ushered Hermione off of his lap, although rather reluctantly, due to the murderous look on Ron's face.

"That's right," Ron snapped, taking a large, unnecessary bite of a mustard sandwich which was, by the way, quite horrid.

"Shut up, Weasley, I didn't ask you," McLaggen snapped, not looking Ron in the face.

"_You_ shut up, McLaggen, _I_ didn't ask _your_ opinion," Ron retorted.

"Why should I shut up? I—"

"Just—just—just shut up, all right?"

"Shut up, the both of you!" Harry said in an annoyed voice, waving his wand over his head in what he thought was a scary and threatening way.

"Shut up, Potter, no one asked you!"

"My being asked anything doesn't have anything to do with my freedom of speech," Harry argued.

Ron and McLaggen immediately stopped bleating insults at each other temporarily. "Freedom of speech?"

Hermione sighed, relieved that the 'shutting up' had subsided. "Muggle thing," she answered.

"Oh, Muggle thing," McLaggen said. "Well, it's not one of our Wizarding Laws—I think," he added quietly. "What-sodding-ever. Just shut up. All of you."

"You don't have the right to shut us up, McLaggen," Harry said, eying McLaggen warily, unknowing that his comment had gone unnoticed.

"Shut up, Weasley."

"Shut up, McLaggen."

"Blood-traitor."

"Slytherin-turned Gryffindor."

"_Shut up._"

"_You_ shut up."

"_Silencio!"_

"…"

"…"

"Phew, good job, Harry," Hermione said with relief, smiling at Harry, who was now pocketing his wand, muttering something that sounded oddly like, "Good job, Wandy."

**_finite_**


	17. Step, step, step, CLONK

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Seventeen: Step, step, step, CLONK**

Halfway throughout lunch, Hermione noticed with satisfaction that McLaggen was acting… oddly. He seemed rather hyper and sadistically happy, and every time she asked him what the matter was, he answered it with a hyper answer.

"Er... Cormac...? What're you—"

"This day is too perfect to be ruined by your nags, 'Mione, so shut it shut it shut it!"

Then Ron had to include an interjection.

"Are you sure you didn't hit him with a Retardedness Curse or something?"

"Hermione… what'd you do to him?" Harry asked Hermione in amazement, once the Silencing Charm on Ron and Hermione had worn off, his voice lowered. "He looks—"

"Euphoric?" Hermione answered, obviously happy with the reunion of herself and her voice.

Ron turned towards Hermione, his mouth full. "Whrr oo ood tmm hmm?" He asked, spraying the table with cranberry remnants.

Hermione looked at him, repulsed. Harry made a choking sound somewhere in his throat, and he hastily took a deep swig from his goblet, trying to wipe his robes off unnoticed.

Ron swallowed, making an apologetic grin. "Sorry. What did you do to him?"

"Oh," Hermione said, bringing her voice down a few notches. "I hit him with a Euphoric Jinx."

"McLaggen seems to be the receiving end of all the jinxes lately," said Harry, shaking his head. "Poor guy." Catching Hermione's face, he said hastily, "But he deserves it!"

Hermione watched McLaggen out of the corner of his eye, who, by the way, was practically bouncing up and down on the bench, yelling something about acorns.

"You know, Hermione," Harry said thoughtfully, after a while, "this could be dangerous to you, Hermione. He could do something idiotic—"

"He does that all the time, Harry," Ron said in a low voice, glaring at McLaggen as if to make his intentions clear.

Harry shrugged, nodding. Hermione, now realizing what she had done, started to look slightly alarmed. "Oh no," she said, "this jinx wears off on its own, and I actually don't…"

"Don't tell us you don't know when it wears off, Hermione," said Ron, abandoning his steak-and-kidney pie, only to later tackle a basketful of pumpkin pasties.

Hermione hastily took a bite of her food and said through a mouthful of broccoli, "Okay then, I won't."

-x-

"Cormac—Cormac, don't do that… listen to me!" Hermione said, straining, as though she was holding on to the leash of a German Shepherd, who in this case was McLaggen.

McLaggen, meanwhile, was rushing ahead of Hermione as best as he could, hitting his head on the walls in between every ten steps.

"Cormac—"

Step, step, step.

"Stop that, we have to get to—"

Step, step, step.

"—to class…"

Step, step, step.

"Stop that right now!"

CLONK.

"Don' tell me what t' do…" McLaggen murmured, as though sleepy.

Step, step, step.

"Cormac, _really_…"

Step, step, step.

"This is just the result of a jinx—"

Step, step, step.

"—you have to gather your real mind, you'll be just fine!"

CLONK.

After a while, Hermione gave it up as a bad job. She was better at jinxes than she thought.

-x-

"—the transfiguration of a maple leaf to a fig looks simple enough, but is rather complex in—" Professor McGonagall paused and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Miss Granger, Mister McLaggen. You two are late."

"Sorry, Professor," Hermione gasped, dragging herself and the hyperventilating McLaggen into the room. As she passed by McGonagall, she hissed, "Something's happened…"

She hurriedly told McGonagall about the unfortunate Magnetic Love Curse and what had just happened the other day.

"Miss Granger, that jinx that you used, the Euphoric Jinx—that was banned twenty-three years ago. Haven't you read—"

"—_Hogwarts: A History?_" Hermione asked wearily. "Well…"

"Well, it isn't in there," McGonagall said awkwardly, "but that's not the point. Though I sympathize your position, however, I must take off five points—" here, she lowered her voice, "just to make sure I don't look as though I play favorites. To your seats, you two, I have to say I cannot do anything."

"You _can't_?" Hermione asked shrilly.

McGonagall shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ms. Granger. Anyway, class, easy as this task may look—"

Hermione shook her head and pushed McLaggen into a seat near the front of the room and taking her place next to an empty seat next to it. Turning around, she located Ron and Harry seated in the back of the classroom, looking absolutely worried.

"—you must calculate the syrup qualities and divide the two by the square root of the area of the quantity of the larger leaf…"

"Cormac, no!"

McLaggen, who was obviously not in his right mind, thought that this particular transfiguration was 'as easy as picking a leaf', and he waved his wand dangerously and pointed at the maple leaf that was lying on McGonagall's desk, which promptly turned into a bulldog.

"Cormac, what did I tell you?" Hermione said severely, reminding herself unpleasantly of her old Muggle kindergarten teacher.

Cormac grinned happily.

_Well, as long as he's not jumping around, and nothing else happens…_ Hermione thought drolly, hastily taking notes.

Looking up, she noticed that Professor McGonagall had turned into her Animagus form out of instinct.

Bulldogs and cats do not go well together. Not at all.

Professor McGonagall screeched and attempted to hop onto her desk—

"Woof! Grr… woof woof!"

—unfortunately, she seemed to forget that her desk had turned into the bulldog.

"Cormac, look what you did!" Hermione said irritably, standing up to help, dragging Cormac along with her. "Professor, just change back—oh, goodness!"

-x-

Ron looked around the room. All of his classmates were idiots, just staring at Professor McGonagall, who was not, for some reason, changing back, and the bulldog advancing onto Hermione.

Harry, on the other hand, was nudging Ron painfully in the sides with his elbows. "Don't just sit there!" he hissed. "Do something!"

Hermione was not looking happy, although McLaggen's euphoria made up for the both of them, oblivious to the unhappy canine in front of them.

The bulldog growled and jumped.

At the same time, Ron did. ("Get off Hermione, you mangy mutt!")

"—oh, no! _Ron!_"

McLaggen cackled.

**_finite_**


	18. It's not my fault

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Eighteen: It's Not My Fault**

Hermione gaped and backed away from the horrifying sight rather quickly, dragging a hyperventilating McLaggen with her.

"Poor _Ron_," she breathed.

The bulldog had attached its happily growling self by the claws to Ron's back, barking and yapping in his ears and clawing at his neck and hair.

Professor McGonagall, meanwhile still in her cat form, hung stubbornly onto Ron's leg, which he was not taking well.

"Argh! Damn dog!" He yelled thickly, not at all acting like the hero Harry hoped he would be.

Harry had half-risen from his chair the moment he saw the dog leap onto Ron, but sat back down abruptly, remembering that this was Ron's battle.

Hermione attempted to pull Professor McGonagall off of Ron—thankfully, she succeeded—however, McGonagall decided that attaching herself to Hermione would be a better choice.

"Aiyee!" Hermione screamed. McGonagall's claws were sharper than she thought.

Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed Neville creeping out of the classroom.

-x-

Bill chuckled. "What happened again? Say it slower."

Neville panted. "Hermione hit—McLaggen—with—Elephant Curse or something—"

"Eu_phoria_ Curse," Charlie interjected shortly. Bill kicked him in the shins.

"—and McLaggen transformed McGonagall's desk—into—bulldog—McGonagall turned into cat…"

Charlie turned aside, not willing to show his brother or Neville that he was laughing. "Dog and McGonagall—attacked Ron…"

Charlie stopped laughing. "Why Ron?" he asked turning on his heel. Bill sat up straighter from his seat on the floor.

Neville grinned. "He wanted to help Hermione."

Bill and Charlie nodded knowingly. "Oh, right then," Bill said, waving a hand. "Then what?"

"McGonagall jumped—on Hermione," Neville replied breathlessly, massaging the stitch in his side, panting.

"Why do you think she's not transforming back into a human?" Charlie asked Bill, frowning. "I thought Animagi could transform into human and their animal anytime they wanted?"

"They can…" Bill said slowly, chewing on a piece of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum he happened to have in his pocket. "But encountering a fear during transformation can addle their human brains. She's probably stuck in her animal mind for the time being." He shrugged. "Are Hermione or Ron hurt?"

"Probably, McGonagall's claws—sharper than they look."

Bill roared with laughter, and then stood up. "Let's go, then, Charlie!"

-x-

Neville opened the door to the Transfiguration classroom hurriedly and pointed to the front of the room, where Ron and Hermione were still occupied with the animals.

Neville's fellow classmates were staring blankly at the scene except Harry, Seamus, and Dean, who obviously wanted to get up and help, but feared getting Ron and Hermione's relationship in jeopardy—not that it wasn't. Neville himself jogged awkwardly over to them, motioning over to Bill and Charlie. Harry sighed in relief. Seamus and Dean nearly kissed him.

Bill pointed his wand at the bulldog, which turned back into the desk. The desk landed heavily on top of Ron. Charlie, meanwhile, pointed his at the cat-McGonagall, and with a flash of light, Professor McGonagall landed nimbly on her own feet. Hermione, however, stumbled over at the sudden impact into McLaggen, who was at least sane enough to catch her.

Panting, Professor McGonagall rearranged her witch's hat, which had gone askew in the disarray, and coughed. "I do apologize, class," she said, stiffly. "Would any of you kindly remind me of what we were discu—what was that?"

For indeed, a muffled noise came from beneath her desk, interrupting.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley—being fifteen, I would think you were more mature than to play hide-and-seek." She pulled him out roughly by the scruff of his bloodied collar, not noticing Ron wincing in pain.

Ron stumbled to his desk, rubbing at his eyes.

McLaggen, meanwhile, was still holding a-struggling-to-get-off Hermione in his arms, oblivious to her unsuccessful attempts to get away.

Finally understanding that she wouldn't be able to escape anytime soon, Hermione called out, "Professor, Ron's hurt!"

Bill and Charlie grinned and walked out of the classroom unnoticed by everyone except Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Neville, whom they winked at jauntily before making a quiet getaway.

"What did you say, Miss Granger?"

"Ron—Ronald, he's hurt."

McGonagall glanced up from the fallen maple leaves at Ron, and her indifferent expression quickly turned to a surprised one. "Oh dear, I believe you're right. Ms. Granger, Mr. McLaggen, if you would escort him—you two look ill enough yourselves… my claws must have been sharper than I expected…"

Taking advantage of McLaggen slightly loosening his grip on Hermione, she wriggled expertly out of his arms and hurried over to Ron, placing her hand on his shoulders.

"Thanks, Ron."

Ron merely nodded, rubbing at his neck.

-x-

"What happened?" Madame Pomfrey asked in disbelief, putting ointments on Ron's cuts and scratches. "Nothing like that has ever happened in Hogwarts since 1946."

"Well," Hermione said uncertainly to the matron, uncomfortably caressing her bandaged knee, "Cormac here, we were attached most un_fortunately_—" Here, she glared at the disinterested boy beside her—"together, and he was hit by a… a Euphoria Curse. Somehow, it has also messed his brains up a bit and during class he turned Professor McGonagall's desk into a bulldog, and," she spread her hands innocently, "here we are!"

Madame Pomfrey nodded knowingly, looking up from bandaging Ron's neck to scrutinize McLaggen. "I believe the charm Mr. McLaggen here used was a transfiguration charm; however, instead of creating a harmless puppy, he produced a magical canine of sorts. Er… there must have been something in the dog's teeth and claws, I'm afraid, and as the creature attacked young Mr. Weasley here… let us just say he won't be okay for a while."

Hermione winced as McLaggen started to bounce about on the seat next to her, jiggling her arm up and down, chanting, "It's not my fault, it's not my fault!"

Madame Pomfrey chuckled. "You hit him rather hard, I see," she said.

Hermione looked insulted. "Who said I was the one who hit him with the curse, Madame? It's… er, not _my_ fault." She looked at her fingernails, deciding that they were extremely interesting.

Madame Pomfrey bustled away with some potion and noisily clattered about the cupboards. "Oh, whatever you say, dear. Well, along with you, Ms. Granger, you and Mr. McLaggen are finished with. To class now." Catching Hermione's fear-filled eyes, she added, "Mr. Weasley will be well-tended to here. Back to Transfiguration, now."

-x-

Hermione shook her head in annoyance as she pulled McLaggen through the halls back to Transfiguration. "Cormac," she said flatly, "look what you've done to Ron! He's injured horribly now!"

McLaggen merely kicked at the walls. "'S'not my fault, you hit me with the curse, you did! It's not my fault, not my fault!"

Hermione shrugged. "It looks like you're becoming saner, now, Cormac. You actually know what happened to you." She pulled him away from a venomous-looking plant. "And, incidentally, it _is_ your fault. I mean, you didn't have to—"

_She… thanked me… Hermione said… 'Thank you'… to me…_

Hermione looked up, distracted. She hadn't heard Ron's voice in a long time. She allowed his muzzy, lethargic thoughts to enter her head.

_Getting attacked by that bulldog… bloody hell, it was worth it… I just hope… I just hope I can… manage to tell her… that… I…_

"—IT'S NOT MY FAULT!"

Hermione winced. McLaggen had just shouted into her ear. "Cormac!" She said snappishly. "Right, I realize that it isn't your fault, now would you stop! Shouting! It!"

McLaggen sneered contentedly. "Yeah, not my fault, it isn't. Not my fault at _all_."

Hermione glared at him for a few seconds, and then turned away. She tried to hear Ron, but to her disappointment, she couldn't.

"Come on, then, Cormac, we better get back to class."

**_finite_**


	19. What d'you mean, certain matters?

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Nineteen: What d'you mean, certain matters?  
**

Harry sat on the floor in the Boys' Dormitory cross-legged that night, along with Seamus, Dean, Neville, Bill, and Charlie. Ron, obviously, was still in the Hospital Wing.

After a few moments of silence, Dean broke it. "You know," he said hesitantly, "Hermione and McLaggen are still attached together. Where d'you suppose McLaggen sleeps?"

Charlie immediately gagged, Bill half-choked on a new piece of gum, Seamus paled, Neville got numb in his left leg, jumped up, and stomped on the floor, and Harry laughed. "Separate beds, of course," he said, chuckling. However, his voice trailed. "I hope..."

After the gum was extracted from Bill's throat, his eyes streaming (the gum landing in Neville's hair), he replied, "I'll be willing to bet in the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitories," he replied uncertainly, "as boys can't go into the Girls' Dormitories. As for separate beds… I dunno."

Neville continued to stomp on the floor.

"Maybe McLaggen sleeps on the floor, or something," Seamus whispered hoarsely. "Y'know… courtesy of blokes or something…"

"But he's insane now." Charlie stood up from the floor and began to pace the room. "I mean, being hit by the Euphoria Curse and all. As we've said before… it's addled his brains. He'd probably want to… y'know, share the bed."

"Well _that_ can't be good," Harry muttered.

-x-

Hermione, meanwhile, was having a very hard time getting dressed and ready for bed with McLaggen barely five feet nearby. Knowing that the Curse only prevented them from being more than four to six feet away, and she could be in a separate room, but still be 'attached' to him, it still daunted her that he was _so close._

Going into the bathroom hurriedly and shutting the door (it barely hit McLaggen on the nose), she quickly got dressed in her dressing gown and bathrobe, and got out. All of this took barely two minutes.

McLaggen, however, was having more difficulty. It was rather like he was a seven-year-old again, instead of a seven_teen_-year-old.

So, of course, Hermione got a fellow Seventh Year boy to help him out.

Once all was done, Hermione wrung her hands.

"So, er, Cormac," she said nervously, "you had the bed, er, yesterday… so I believe it is my turn…" McLaggen merely shrugged and allowed her to lie down. For five minutes, Hermione was content in the four-poster bed, covering her eyes with the pillow, thinking that McLaggen was comfortable as well on the floor beside her. Suddenly, the mattress caved inwards.

"What the—"

McLaggen had quickly hopped on the bed as well, jumping about on the mattress.

"Cormac! It's _nighttime!_ You should be getting some sleep!" McLaggen stopped bouncing, but remained standing on the mattress.

Hermione glared.

"_Fi-ine_," McLaggen said childishly, and proceeded to flop onto the bed, narrowly missing Hermione, face-first.

All was quiet for a few seconds. Hermione could hear an audible "Thank goodness" from one of the drawn four-poster beds.

"Er, Cormac?" she whispered tentatively after a while. "You should… er, well… y'know, be on the floor…" McLaggen merely hugged Hermione tightly, causing her shoulders and arms to go numb. "Cormac? Cor_mac_!" she hissed.

But McLaggen was already asleep.

"Bugger," she said in annoyance, before allowing herself to drift to sleep as well, unconscious thoughts swimming throughout her mind.

-x-

_Oh, dear, I hope Ron doesn't find out. It's not my _fault_ that Cormac had to go and jump into the bed! And now…I can't get out. _

Ron stirred in his hospital bed, automatically bringing his hands up to touch his raw neck. The pain that accompanied him brought him fully awake.

_I mean, Ron would go mad! And my parents brought me up to never wake a sleeping person._

Ron's hand stopped in midair on its way to his neck. What did Hermione just say? Er, think?

_Damn, I'm bloody stuck like this. And I'm even starting to curse! Hermione Jean Granger, I'm surprised at you. Myself. What_ever_ the bloody hell! Cormac is _sleeping with me_! Maybe… _

Ron sat up against his pillows. _He_ certainly hadn't heard Hermione's thoughts for a while now. And what—what was this maybe?"

_Maybe, if I turn my back on him, I can imagine that he is someone else. Okay, I can imagine that it… that it… Hermione! You are ever _so_ horrible and tactless. You mustn't think those thoughts! Now go to sleep, or…_

But Ron could not hear the rest. Instead of to his neck, his hands went to his head, ruffling his hair consciously. Hermione, thinking of someone _else_ sleeping in the bed next to her? Who could it be?

Suddenly, a horrible thought came back to him. McLaggen. Is. Sleeping. With. Hermione. Bloody _Hell. _Ron was so enraged, that once his hand came away from his tresses, they brought tufts of fiery-red hair along with it.

Hermione is sleeping with McLaggen… again!

-x-

When Ron woke up the next morning, he was displeased to find that he still couldn't get out of the Hospital Wing.

"Now, now, Mr. Weasley, you will find out that your physical health is more important than… other… _certain_ matters."

"What d'you mean, _certain matters?_"

"Hush, Weasley. You'll wake up the other patients." She made a shushing gesture with her index finger. "As to certain matters, you'll find you realize what I mean. Now take this potion. There's still a bit of venom in your bloodstream, that's not particularly harmful to the heart, of course," She said hastily, noticing the look on Ron's face. "But yes, it does make you rather lethargic and irritable—"

"Not that I aren't already," Ron grumbled.

"—and that won't work with the certain matters you shall have to attend to soon after you are released from the Hospital Wing," Madame Pomfrey finished.

"_What d'you mean, certain matters?_" Ron asked redundantly.

"Hush!" Madame Pomfrey said severely. "I meant it when I said be quiet. It's only six o' clock in the morning! Isn't this rather uncharacteristic of you, waking up this early?"

"No, it isn't," Ron snapped, his temper obviously getting the better of him.

"Manners," Madame Pomfrey interjected, her face becoming slightly flushed from the excessive shouting. After a while, she composed herself and walked serenely away, muttering something that sounded slightly like, "I must be off now. There are _certain matters_ I must attend to," only resulting in Ron shouting something rude at her.

Ron had forgotten why he was so touchy until that particular moment. _Hermione slept with McLaggen! Again!_

-x-

Around seven, Hermione woke up, her shoulders aching with a dull pain. Wondering why the bed sheets were green instead of blue, she looked up and around, finding the source of the cramp.

It was McLaggen. "Oh dear," she muttered quietly, trying to extricate his arms from around her shoulders, which had not moved or diminished in power since the last night.

Merlin, McLaggen had tight hugs.

Deciding it would be best for the both of them if they woke up, Hermione gave her sleeping partner a swift, but gentle kick in the knees, hoping that it was enough to wake him.

It wasn't.

"Bloody… hell…o, Cormac," she improvised, attempting to avoid further profanity. "You can sleep through a hurricane," she grumbled, attempting to kick him again.

Again, it did not work.

So she tried again. Evidently, three times were a charm, even in the Wizarding World.

McLaggen groaned and sat up abruptly, half causing Hermione's shoulders to rise with the motion. "Grnnn… hn?" he murmured sleepily, his head nodding dangerously.

"Cormac! _Cormac!_ Wake up!" Hermione began to shake his shoulders. "We best get out, before…"

But the curtains on McLaggen's four-poster bed were pulled apart, and Hermione found herself facing three Seventh Year Boys, the names she did not know, her hands still on McLaggen's shoulders.

"Great_,_" she exclaimed irately.

-x-

Hermione eventually managed to escape the Seventh Year Boys' curious questions and garrulous teasing and dragged a sleepy McLaggen down the stairs of the Boys' Dormitories and into the Great Hall.

"Cormac, if you were only wider awake, I'd swear you were getting saner," she stated, watching him walk down the halls alongside her, managing not to put any physical damage on him using the wall. He grinned hugely and nodded, his eyes still slightly out of focus.

"Harry! Ginny! Good morning," Hermione called out jauntily to her two friends, who were sitting at their usual spot on the Gryffindor table.

Harry waved, and Ginny grinned: but her smile quickly faded off when she noticed McLaggen trailing behind her, yawning, spittle coming down the sides of his mouth. Once Hermione was seated next to her, she whispered into her ear, "How was your night? If you ask me, it looks like you two were… y'know, sleeping together."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders sheepishly, saying, "I'll tell you later," to which Ginny nodded exasperatedly.

Directing her attention to Harry, she grinned falsely. "Harry, you're up early?"

Harry looked at her, not amused. "I'm always up at this time," he said flatly.

Hermione gave a tinkling laugh. "Er, right," she said, obviously looking nervous. She did not notice Harry give Seamus, Dean, and Neville, who were just entering the Great Hall, nervous looks.

"How was your night?" Harry coughed. "Slept well?"

Ginny nudged Hermione discreetly. "Splendid," she replied, glancing at McLaggen. Thankfully, he had fallen asleep on his kippers, and had not heard a word.

"Harry, Ginny?" Hermione asked timidly. "What do you, say we visit Ron before classes? You know, see if he's awake and all right, or all right and awake, or okay and merry, or merry and a man, or a Merry Man, or Robin Hood—"

"Hermione!" Ginny said sharply.

Hermione snapped out of her daze, looking at Ginny confusedly. "Oh," she said nervously, "sorry."

Harry looked at her strangely, then to McLaggen, and back at Hermione again. He was suspicious.

"Yeah, we better visit Ron," he said evasively.

**_finite_**


	20. A kiss and a make up

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Dedication:This chapter is dedicated to i feel awfully random, the 100th reviewer!

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Twenty: A Kiss and a Make-Up**

_I guess we better visit Ron. Y'know, apologize to him, thank him again… confess to him… that…_

Ron turned over in his bed, not wanting to allow himself to wish for the best.

—_that I… I didn't want to wake McLaggen, because my parents told me that I shouldn't—_

Ron groaned in disappointment, but a second later, he wondered why he did it. He wasn't ever sure that it was Hermione's mind he was hearing, he reminded himself. But if it was, he should expect visitors—

"Mr. Weasley?" Madame Pomfrey sang from around the corner, "Some friends are here to see you."

The red-haired patient felt his heart elevate to his throat.

-x-

Hermione twisted her hands around behind her back, nervously walking over to the door of the Hospital Room while at the same time trying to ignore Cormac McLaggen, who was puckering his face up like a fish. Harry and Ginny were walking casually behind her, sneaking knowing smirks and glances to each other.

Hermione cautiously reached her hand out to the doorknob, where Madame Pomfrey was behind it. "Er, Madame Pomfrey? We're here to see Ron. It's not too early, is it?"

The nurse turned around from her numerous potions bottles, and acknowledged Hermione with a nod and a smile, choosing to ignore the Seventh Year boy beside Hermione altogether. "It's fine, he's been awake for an hour or so, just moping. Come in, come in." She stuck her head around the corner. "Mr. Weasley?" There was a pause. "Some friends are here to see you." And she beckoned at Hermione, Harry, and Ginny. "Ten minutes, you lot. Don't want to be late for classes, do you?"

-x-

"Er, Ron!" Hermione said, with a faltering bravado, tugging a persistent McLaggen behind her. "It's good to see that you're—you're awake…!"

Ron shrugged and pulled his blanket around his neck cautiously, not wanting her to see the thick bandages wrapped around his neck and torso. "Morning," he replied, a hint of surliness, eying McLaggen, who was toeing the frayed carpet behind Hermione.

Harry and Ginny slipped behind the corner, unnoticed by either, choosing to watch the scene at a distance.

"How was your night?" Hermione asked, sitting down on a chair beside Ron's bed. "You look, er, healthy."

"I could ask the same about you," Ron snapped, using a lot more force than he meant to.

Hermione looked taken aback, and decided, for the second time in about 24-48 hours, that her fingernails were more interesting than the red-head in front of her. Ron immediately wanted to take back his rude statement.

"Look, Hermione… it's just I had a hard day and I know—I mean," Ron said hastily, "I _think_ you slept with…" he looked at McLaggen pointedly.

"And where would you get that idea?" Hermione retorted, her voice higher than she thought it would be.

Ron sighed and propped his head up against his pillows. "I dunno. I was just wondering."

Hermione chose to simply ignore Ron's accusations, or simply lash back with his own medicine—a trick her old Muggle babysitter always told her to do, back when she was eight.

"So," Ron said quietly, "did you?"

"You did?" Hermione answered smugly, ignoring McLaggen, who was currently blubbering like a walrus.

"No seriously…"

"Seriously, no!"

"Screw you!"

"You screw!"

Harry and Ginny puffed their cheeks out to restrain from laughing behind the corner, deciding to wait around and see what would happen.

"I do?"

"Do _I_?"

"Right, Hermione," Ron finally said wearily—

"Hermione? Right."

"Stop that, Hermione!" Ron replied shortly, giving up. "Okay, so if you _did_ sleep with McLaggen, I trust you didn't do anything, just like last time."

Hermione smiled shyly, leaning back in her chair (McLaggen toppled over on his). "I was even _drunk_ last time, and I didn't do anything—and, er, I can say that this time? I was sane."

Ron nodded, looking satisfied. "Well, other then that, I can't say that I can trick you."

"I can't say that you can trick me either, Ronald." Hermione replied laughing. McLaggen let out a donkey's bray, although it was plain to see he had no idea about what the mirth was about.

Ron and Hermione stared at him for a while, then at each other, for a long, piercing silence. Finally, Ron broke it. "McLaggen? He's insane or something isn't he?"

"Insanely Euphoric, really," Hermione said uncertainly, "but an overload of happiness is enough to make pretty much anyone insane."

Ron scrutinized McLaggen. "Then he might not really remember anything. Maybe he forgot he likes you?" Hermione looked surprised, and then did another experimental tug… in vain.

"Darn it," she exclaimed. Ron shrugged in sympathy. "It's possible that some people can fall in love and forget about it… but sometimes… when you look at that one special person, you never really forget."

She held Ron in her gaze for a moment while Ron decided that his quilt was spectacular, eying it as though it was a work of art in a museum. However, all of that still couldn't hide the distinguishable red tinge that appeared on his ears.

"…Yeah."

The two heard a squeal from around the corner, and Hermione whirled around. "Hey, where're Harry and Ginny?"

"They came in here?" Ron asked, bemused.

"Er, yeah."

Ron again decided that his blanket was interesting. "Didn't notice," he mumbled, so quietly that Hermione had to crane her neck to hear.

"Ron?" Hermione said tentatively. "I—I'm… sorry."

Ron looked at Hermione, his neck still hidden in his quilt. "For what?"

"For calling you a prat," Hermione confessed, trying to look genuinely apologetic (which was harder than it sounded as McLaggen was bouncing about on his chair behind her).

"Well… I _was_ a bit of a prat. You had, y'know, every right to treat me like one." Ron sat up slightly, and the blanket fell from his shoulders, exposing the large bandaging.

Hermione gaped at it. "It was that serious? So serious that even _magic_ couldn't fix it?"

Ron gathered up the blanketing again and wrapped his torso more snugly with it. "It's not _that_ bad, Hermione!" He said. "I'll be right as rain in a day or so."

"I'm so sorry, Ron." She moved closer. "Thank you."

Ron looked down at his hand, which was poking out of his sheets, and was surprised to see Hermione's enclosing it. Feeling content, he squeezed it. "Hermione… I—"

"Nurse! Nuuuuurse!" McLaggen screamed from behind Hermione.

Hermione winced.

"Miss Granger? You should get to class. And _you_," Madame Pomfrey said sternly, noticing Ron open his mouth, " should get some more sleep."

Hermione gave Ron a final peck on the cheek, murmuring, "Thanks for everything," in his ear, and walked off, McLaggen stomping off in the lead.

Once Ron was alone, her put a hand on the spot on his cheek where Hermione had kissed him, wonderingly.

-x-

"Her_mione_!" Ginny squealed, tackling Hermione, once she exited the Hospital Wing. Harry was nowhere to be found.

"You kissed my brother!" She said excitedly. "Does this mean that you two are friends again?"

_Stupid timing. _Hermione shook her head. Great, Ron's voice was messing around inside of it again. _You're a _prat_, Ronald Weasley._

"Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head, focusing on Ginny again. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I asked if you two were friends again," Ginny stated slowly. "You kissed him!"

"On the _cheek_," Hermione said firmly. "And… yes, we're friends again."

Ginny shook Hermione wildly on the hand, grinning fiercely. "Congratulations, Hermione! Congratulations!"

Hermione looked at Ginny, feeling thoroughly confused by Ginny's choice of words. "Er, thanks Ginny. Now I seriously have to get to Arithmancy—and you have to get to Transfiguration."

Hermione turned to go, feeling a tug on her arm. "Cormac, we seriously _must_ get to cla—oh. Sorry, Ginny," she ended sheepishly.

Ginny chuckled. "I was just going to ask you, did you get your Arithmancy book back yet?"

"No," Hermione admitted, "but I'm—" here, she kicked McLaggen in the right knee, "—hoping to—" there was a kick to the left knee, "—soon," (add a stomp on both feet).

Ginny began to walk off, calling behind her shoulder, "I hope you do get it soon!" and departed with a smirk, leaving Hermione looking at the door to the Hospital Wing, an odd look in her eyes.

**_finite_**


	21. The Next Best Thing

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Twenty One: The Next-Best Thing**

Bill lounged at the foot of Harry's bed, somehow still chewing on the very piece of gum that had nearly choked him the day before. "Well," he said, chomping on the sticky wad, "it's nighttime again."

This time, Harry didn't even grin. "We forgot to ask Hermione if McLaggen had to share a bed with her today," he said, the smile that he was wearing earlier fading.

Neville, meanwhile, was buried under his sheets, snoring.

"You know me," Dean said, the corners of his mouth struggling to pull themselves down, "when I don't know the real story, I jump to conclusions."

"Yeah, and bel_ieve_ me, he _really_ jumps to conclusions. Remember when Hermione became some sort of cat in Second Year? We all thought—"

"Thank you—for verifying that, Seamus," Charlie said, sounding distressed. "I dunno about you lot, but—" Dean stomped Seamus's foot—"I don't really want to hear about the things Dean jumps to conclusions about."

Instant negative replies from the other boys indicated that they did not want to hear it either. Following this was an uncomfortable silence which Bill broke.

"Well," (insert sounds of disgusting chewing and scandalized sounds), "it's nighttime again."

-x-

"Well, Cormac!" Hermione said to McLaggen with a fake bravado. "It's, er, nighttime again."

McLaggen, who seemed to be looking and acting slightly saner, simply shrugged with a rather large grin pasted on his face. "Yay, I like to sleep." As if this comment was weird enough, he grabbed Hermione in a big bear hug and added, "You're a good pillow, 'Mione. _Soft._"

Hermione was thoroughly disturbed by this, and laughed nervously. "Er—haha… hah. Haha. Okay, Cormac, I have to get ready for bed…"

There was a pause while some of McLaggen's friends made cricket-sounds with their lips.

"Cormac? You have to let go of me now."

"All right, 'Mione! But I'll never let you go."

"But I have to go to bed."

"So?"

"I can't, you know, get ready for bed with you clinging to me."

There were more cricket-like sounds.

"Thank you, Cormac."

-x-

_I can't believe I didn't… didn't tell her. I'm such an idiot! If I just didn't stutter at her like… a bumbling… something-baboon-bunch, maybe she would've known._

Hermione froze, her comb hidden deep inside her forest of brown tangles, her face a picture of innocent surprise in the mirror. It was happening again…

_Hermione is the best thing that has ever happened to me. But she'll never know what she's done for me—if I never tell her. I gotta tell her soon._

Hermione began to wash her hands, having given up on brushing her hair (and partly because she lost the comb somewhere in her tumbleweed). She wasn't entirely sure that this was Ron after all—but something was better than nothing, right?

"I could communicate with him, couldn't I?" she said to herself quietly, although there was no need to: McLaggen was waiting patiently behind the door. The curse so far had changed the boy for the better, making him surprisingly friendly, however not entirely insane.

But we're going off the point.

_Ron? Ron—it's Hermione._

-x-

Ron flipped through his _Quaffle, Now!_ Magazine, many unpleasant thoughts running through his head.

_I can't believe I didn't… didn't tell her. I'm such an idiot!_

Ron was feeling a _lot_ of self-pity at the moment—but that's not all that he was feeling.

_If I just didn't stutter at her like… a bumbling… something-baboon-bunch, maybe she would've known._

Yes; Ron Weasley was finally allowing himself to believe that he was indeed in love with his best friend of six years._ Hermione is the best thing that has ever happened to me. But she'll never know what she's done for me—if I never tell her. I gotta tell her soon._

"Weasley? It's time to take your Essence of Trepidation."

Ron looked up just in time to see Madame Pomfrey advance towards him with a rather foul looking substance.

"Er, thanks," he said ruefully, inspecting the crystal vial's contents. He began to sip it, shuddering in disgust. It was _horrible_!

_Ron? Ron—it's Hermione._

He spat the liquid out all over the matron, who was currently using her wand as some sort of Muggle 'doctor' stethoscope on his chest.

"Ronald Weasley!" She exclaimed sternly, "I understand that the potion does taste rather surfeiting, I know, but if you want any improvement to take place—"

"Er, er, yes, sorry, Madame Pomfrey," Ron hurried hastily, taking several more gulps as if wanting to prove to her that he could do it. The matron nodded in approval and went back to checking the sound of his heartbeat.

_Hermione?_ He thought desperately. _What time is it? It's awful late, you should be asleep._

Back in the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitory, Hermione giggled softly, despite the fact that she was practically being squeezed in McLaggen's python-like grip.

_Can't sleep. I'm afraid that if I do, I might suffocate._

Ron's thoughts raced. _What? What happened? Should I tell Madame Pomfrey?_

_No, Ron. I'm just kidding. McLaggen's hugs can crush a trash can—and I'm afraid to say that I'm a lot _softer_ than a trash can._

_A trash can? Muggles have cans made of _trash?

_Er, never mind._

_If you say so…_

Neither of the two formed and sent thoughts to the other for a while.

_Hermione?_

_Uh huh?_

_It's really you, right? I mean… you're Hermione and not some sort of…_

_Yes, Ronald. I'm the same Hermione who's known you since First Year, who hates the name Jean, and nags you every hour to read _Hogwarts, A History_. I have ugly bushy brown hair and I lo—_

_What?_

_What, what?_

_What did you say about your hair?_

_It's ugly. Just like the rest of me.  
_

… _I don't think you're ugly, Hermione. And I happen to like your hair._

Not talking physically to Hermione made Ron feel a little bolder, and he felt like he could say everything he wanted to tell her.

Hermione smiled and wrapped the blankets around her, snuggling deep into the pillows. _Yeah, right, Ronald. Good try, though._

_No, really._

"I would appreciate it if you finished that potion sometime today, Mister Weasley," Madame Pomfrey informed Ron, who had been staring blankly at the half-empty vial in his hands.

"Oh, er, sorry," Ron replied, flustered. He tried to down most of the potion, but choked on it, spluttering.

"Etiquette!" The matron squawked, hurrying over to Ron and taking the vial. "_Etiquette!_"

Ron watched her go, feeling slightly disturbed. _Sorry 'bout that,_ he thought ruefully. _I had to finish the rest of my Essence of Trepidation. It helps with the poison in my bloodstream and helps destroy the bits that got in my heart._

_I still can't believe it hurt you that badly, Ronald. You should have told me instead of hiding the bandages with your blanket._

_C'mon, Hermione, they're flesh wounds. We've seen worse, haven't we?_

_Well yeah, but your bandages were really thick__, Ron. Thick bandages mean serious wounds!_

_Would you believe me if I told you that Madame Pomfrey ran out of thin bandages and had to make do with what she had?_

_No._

_All right then. Never mind._

Hermione blinked, and didn't think for a while.

_Ron, I'm serious. There was _venom_ included in your attack. You could've died._

_You think a little poison can off me?_

_I'd rather not think about it.  
_

_Is that all you can say right now?_

_No._

Ron's thoughts came in sounding tired and weary. _Well, what else is there?_

_Thank you, Ron. I'm so sorry…_

_You've already said that already Hermione. Thanks too—and you don't have to be sorry._

_I still think I should've treated you a lot better._

_I don't deserve it. Y-you know what, Hermione? _Ron began to sweat, his heart pumping a lot faster.

Back under the sheets in the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitory, Hermione's heart began to speed up as well.

_There's… something I've been meaning to tell you._

Hermione turned over and checked to see if McLaggen was truly asleep. _What is it, Ron?_

_I… I… I love you. I've fancied you for ages, and I never wanted to tell you, 'cause you'd reject me or something. I didn't want that. Our friendship… would be ruined._

Hermione was shocked. _What? _

_I love you,_ Ron thought more clearer. _And this isn't how I imagined saying it… but this is probably the next best thing. Just promise me—if you don't love me back, imagine that this never happened._

_Oh, no, Ron… _Hermione smiled, closing her eyes. _This will go in my memory forever. This isn't the next best thing—_

Ron's heart fell to his abdomen.

_It's the __best._

Ron's heart seemed to jump two spaces higher, and even more so by Hermione's next words:

_I love you, too._

**_finite_**


	22. Darn you, Neville!

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Twenty Two: Darn You, Neville!**

Hermione felt the morning sunlight hit her eyes like a rampaging hippogriff and woke up with a start. She never left her bed hangings open at night!

Groaning and rubbing her eyes, she sat up, and heard McLaggen mumble incoherently beside her. _That's right,_ she thought dully. _This isn't my bed. _Turning toward him, she gently shook him awake. "Cormac! Wake up, it's time for breakfast."

McLaggen merely gave a grunting snore. This, obviously, was very loud, and was loud enough to wake himself up. "Grmm… hm. Wha—?" Hermione nearly sighed in relief.

"You sound like you're getting better, Cormac."

McLaggen ruffled his own hair and sat up in the bed. "Yeah. I don't feel stupid anymore. Wha' time is it?"

_Time to see if Ron's out of the Hospital Wing. _"It's time for breakfast. Come on, get up, I want to get dressed."

It took Hermione and McLaggen a while to finally get dressed and get down to the Great Hall, but it did take up less time, as McLaggen wasn't lingering over the stair banister hollering "The Farmer in the Dell".

-x-

"Hurry up, Cormac, Harry's waving to us."

"Why can't I sit with my own friends again?"

Hermione sighed and continued pulling McLaggen down the table, past the 7th Year Boys. "I find no regret in saying that I doubt you have any, Cormac."

Fortunately, McLaggen heard none of this, as he was oddly distracted by his shoes.

"G'morning, Hermione," Harry said, ignoring McLaggen entirely.

"Morning, Harry!" Hermione said brightly, piling her plate high with sausage and eggs.

Harry watched her with raised eyebrows. "Er, Hermione? Are you all right?"

Hermione looked up, her mouth filled with egg. "Grmm hm!" She mumbled, making a hasty swallow. "Sorry, Harry. I just feel… enchanted."

"Why's that?"

"Harry, you'll never believe this. I talked to Ron last night."

"And so?"

"It was through my mind."

Harry half grinned and began to reply, but as he was about to open his mouth—

"There's no such thing, Hermione. Maybe you were just tired?"

Harry turned around and gaped. It was Neville! "No, Hermione—"

But Hermione had already begun to stand up and gather her books, looking slightly downcast. "McLaggen and I are late for Arithmancy, Harry. I'll talk to you later."

McLaggen shifted something in his robe and left, accompanied by Hermione.

With Hermione and McLaggen gone, Harry whirled around to Neville, who was now sitting beside him. "Darn you, Neville!"

"What?"

"What'd you do that for? She might've been talking about something important with Ron, why'd you tell her it wasn't real?"

Neville played with his cereal a while before mumbling sheepishly, it was _you_ who told me to do that anyway."

Harry blinked. "What?"

_FLASHBACK  
_"So Harry, did you hear? Hermione talked to Ron through her mind!"

"Yeah, Neville. You might be a godfather soon."

"Did Hermione talk to you about it?"

"Yeah. But I didn't say it was possible to do. I didn't tell them I knew of the plan. OUR PART IS CRUCIAL, NEVILLE. CRUCIAL!"

"So I shouldn't really tell them anything?"

"Nope."  
_END FLASHBACK_

Harry groaned and nearly landed his face in his oatmeal. "That was for back _then_, Neville! Now they might never be together!"

"And… I might never be a godfather?"

"Exactly!"

Neville blanched. "We have to do something!"

-x-

"Neville… did… what?" Bill asked slowly, as though he couldn't believe it.

"He told Hermione it wasn't real. That she didn't really talk to him last night."

"Darn you, Neville!" Dean and Seamus said together.

"Jinx, you owe me a Butterbeer!" Seamus said triumphantly as Dean pushed him in the shoulder.

Meanwhile, Neville shuffled his feet in the corner.

"What if they told each other they loved them, though?" Harry went on. "All our work is…"

"Null and void?" Dean suggested.

"Er, I guess?"

"It's not a loss," Charlie said loudly, over the two. "We can fix this, eh Bill?"

"Eh, Charlie!"

"But first things first: we've gotta get rid of McLaggen. As in, get him unattached from Hermione."

"There are two possibilities," Bill said. "One—" (Charlie held up one finger in the background)—"we can create a countercurse to the Magnetic Love Curse McLaggen used. Or, two—" (Charlie held up his second finger in the background)—"make a love potion that makes McLaggen fall in love with the first girl that walks by. He'll probably forget all about Hermione, and he wouldn't be in love with her anymore."

"Or so we hope," Charlie added.

"Wait," Seamus said slowly, "love potions don't really create _love_ though, right?"

Dean looked at Seamus oddly. "Since when do you listen in Potions?"

Bill clasped his hands. "You're right, it'll only make him infatuated, but it should be just enough to distract him from whatever feelings he has for Hermione."

"So what should we try first?" Harry asked. "Making a countercurse would probably take too long…"

"A love potion only takes three days!" Neville added from the corner.

Seamus raised an eyebrow. "And you know this because…?"

Neville looked away.

"Darn you, Neville!"

_**finite**_


	23. Charlie's Plan

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See chapter one.

**Twenty Three: Charlie's Plan**

Charlie sat in the Boys' Dormitory, pondering over whether it was a better idea to give a love potion to McLaggen instead of making a countercurse.

Then again, the countercurse would take much too long. The _Ornyquartus _curse—the Magnetic Love Curse—took him and Bill almost a year to develop anyway.

But then _again_, McLaggen could take the Love Potion and see Hermione again, and fall in more love with her.

There were so many cons.

"WHERE ARE THE PROS?" He found himself yelling.

Miraculously, none of the boys heard him save Bill, who shook awake. "Grmm?"

"Both of our plans have more cons than pros," Charlie whined.

Bill shrugged in half-sleep. "Then make up a third plan and see if it's any better than our original two."

So Charlie thought.

And thought.

And thought and thought and thought.

"I know!" He finally yelled out an hour later, to the now empty Boys' Dormitory. "The third plan is…! WE CAN JUST CHOP MCLAGGEN'S ARM OFF!"

_**finite**_


	24. A for Amortentia

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Twenty Four: 'A' for Amortentia**

"Bill! Bill!"

Bill choked slightly on his piece of bacon in the Great Hall, choosing to avoid his brother's voice today. In front of him, Harry, Dean, Neville, and Seamus turned around blankly, just as Charlie reached the Gryffindor table, slapping his hands on the wood.

"Bill! I have figured out Plan Three. And I honestly think that this would be more effective than all our other plans."

Bill rolled his eyes, however, Dean spoke up. "What is it?"

Charlie paused dramatically, then said, "We will chop McLaggen's arm off. Eh? Eh, Bill?"

All the boys went silent.

"…eh Bill?" Charlie looked expectantly at Bill. "You're supposed to say, 'eh, Charlie!' back, remember?"

Bill cleared his throat and looked as though he was trying his best to stay calm. "Charlie, we cannot chop McLaggen's arm off."

"Yes we can. Look at this—it's a trick I just learned the other day when I talked to Mad Eye, watch. _Pandeias_!" Charlie made a slashing motion with his wand (Neville choked on his porridge, and Seamus had to prod the back of his neck with his wand), and when his wand came up, it had transformed into a—

"Sword! See, brother? This beauty will slice anything. I'm not sure about cheese though, I'll have to raid those kitchens tonight—"

"I didn't mean it like that," Bill said, exasperatedly. "I mean, we seriously _can't_ chop McLaggen's arm off. Don't you know why? You developed the Magnetic Love Curse with me."

"All right, why can't we—" he made a slashing gesture with his sword, narrowly missing a small second year who scurried off hurriedly—"to McLaggen's arm?"

Bill clasped his hands together in a paternal manner. "The Magnetic Love Curse does not attach Hermione and McLaggen together by the arms." He droned. "The curse binds them together with a magnetic force that is as strong as or stronger than the person's love. The person is, saying, McLaggen. A person could go in between them and not get caught by an invisible rope or anything. They could be separated by a wall, but they can not go past more than five feet of each other. In other words, they cannot be separated from the other's side, unless the magnetic bond fades away."

"How can the magnetic bond fade?" Harry asked. "We need to get McLaggen out of the way before we bring Ron into this."

Bill scratched his head. "McLaggen's _love for Hermione_ needs to fade, somehow. That's why I think the best bet for McLaggen is Plan A."

Meanwhile, Charlie's sword wilted back into a wand (his head hanging in disappointment).

"And if that doesn't work, we can go to Plan C."

Dean looked up from his plate of mashed potatoes. "Wait—why skip Plan B? I don't know what you do here in the magical world, but in the Muggle world, we take plans and name them… er, well, the first plan would be Plan A, the next Plan B, then C, and so on..."

Bill shook a fork knowingly. "Ah, young grasshopper. Me and Charlie aren't naming them that way, although that is also the customary way for wizards and witches too. Plan A. The 'A' in that plan stands for Amortentia. Plan Amortentia."

"And if that fails…?" Neville asked with a grimace set on his round face.

"We go to Plan C," Charlie whimpered, still disappointed over the loss of Plan S(word).

"And C stands for Countercurse," Bill finished tiredly. "Which might take us up to a year to develop. Which is why Charlie and I are going with our Amortentia plan."

"_So_…" Dean said slowly, "just what is it that you guys are going t—?"

"_All_ of us are going to be doing it, Dean," Charlie cut in. "If you want any credit at all for their wedding, then you're going to be a part of it."

"Also because you brought us into it."

"Not that we're complaining, we're having loads of fun. Too bad we're not doing Plan S though, mate."

"We don't need to, all right?"

"Right, right."

"What is it _we're_ doing?" Seamus snapped. "We'd like to know the plan, thank you."

"All right, _all right_. Bill, explain if you please."

"Thank you, brother. Now, what we're going to do is nick a special type of love potion from Fred and George's Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes shop. Amortentia is a love potion, and strong, but we need to add a specific love potion to it. Just one of Fred and George's gags isn't enough."

"Right. You see, Amortentia makes you fall in love with a specific person. Since we don't have an ugly enough troll around here, we decided it's best if we just let him fall in love with the first person he sees after drinking the potion."

"Which is where nicking some of Fred and George's stuff comes in handy, because they developed a potion that does just that."

"So, Bill and I have decided that since just that isn't enough, we'll add that to Amortentia. If it turns out completely wrong, or it doesn't work, then we'll have to ask Fred and George to help out too."

"And their help may or may not be a good thing."

"So, once McLaggen takes the potion and falls in love with someone else, then his love for Hermione should fade out by the overwhelming love he has for that other person."

"Er, wait," Harry said swiftly, "what if McLaggen sees Hermione? That would make things worse."

"Well, young Harry," Bill answered in his paternal manner, "McLaggen has to see their _face_. Everybody's character and soul is shown in their face. If he doesn't see Hermione's _face_, then he won't fall in love with her from the potion. And you know why?"

"Erm…"

"Because he won't know it's her!" Charlie answered. "Eh, Bill?"

"Eh, Charlie!"

"I'll get to brewing the love potion tonight. Technically, I'm not a part of Hogwarts anymore, and Bill and I are of age. _So_, while I brew Amortentia (I was a dab hand in potions, I hate to admit), Bill'll go down to Diagon Alley and nick Fred and George's stuff."

"Why can't you just take some, Bill?" Neville asked.

"Be_cause_, they'll ask questions. If they find out we're trying to get ickle Ronniekins and Hermione together, they'll try and jump in to help and mess up all our good work."

"Yeah, and we don't want that. Eh Bill?"

"Eh, Charlie!"

"So, I'll get to brewing it now, actually. Bill, you can come and help, since you don't have to get anything from Fred and George right now."

"You four—not a word of this to Hermione and Ron, eh?"

"No sirs, not a word, sirs, we'll be quiet, sirs." The four answered simultaneously.

-x-

Meanwhile, Hermione was stuck at the opposite end of the table, with McLaggen's seventh year friends, unknowing to any of the planning going on at the other end.

-x-

And Ron had gone back down to the Hospital Wing, since he had tripped coming out of the Boys' Dormitory and fallen down the stairs. He had lost five permanent teeth and needed Madame Pomfrey to fix them, since he couldn't have breakfast without them. But since Madame Pomfrey had "for some reason" lost all of her Teeth Regrowing Potions, she had to find Snape to brew some for her, because she had also lost her _Magical Maladies and Cures: How to Do Them! I've Done Them Easily. You May Not Do Them as Easily as Me, because I am the Greatest, but They Are Still Easy! _by Gilderoy Lockhart "somehow." In the excitement of combing through the whole Hospital Wing to find them, she had forgotten that Snape had come in the Hospital Wing "unconscious for _some_ reason," and that he wouldn't be able to brew in such a state. So, Ron had to be stuck in the Hospital Wing for a long time. And of course, he was completely ignorant of the planning his friends were doing in the Great Hall.

-x-

It was nice having Dobby as an ally, Charlie thought to himself, as he hid Madame Pomfrey's books and potions in the Room of Requirement. "Get that potion boiling, Bill!" he bellowed.

"Understood, brother!"

Plan A was officially underway.

**_finite_**


	25. B for But, It's Draco Malfoy!

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Twenty Five: B for But, It's Draco Malfoy!**

"Hey Bill, how's the Amortentia going?"

Bill peered over the cauldron as he stirred, watching the potion turn white to extremely light pink. "It's progressing, Charlie!" he replied, adding half a pound of rose petals. "Can you smell it?"

"Faintly," Charlie said, sniffing the air. "I can smell fire burning—the dragons. I can smell Mum's food…"

"So can I," Bill said, smiling at the memory. "And I can smell… it smells like Fleur Dela—" he cut himself short, but Charlie had heard enough.

Charlie raised both of his fiery red eyebrows. "Unless mine ears are deceiving me—has my brother fallen in _love_?"

"No! It's not—it's… these are my favorite flowers, and she just happened to wear a perfume made from it that day…"

"You, my dear brother, are nearly as bad as Ron. But that's all right. Once we're through with Ron and Hermione I'll help you and that Beauxbaton girl, is that all right?"

"Merlin..."

-x-

"—and that's when we throw the bag over Hermione's head, just to make sure, all right?" Harry whispered at breakfast, holding up a visual for Neville.

"Wait, when do we throw the bag over her head?" Neville asked, screwing up his eyes.

Before Harry had the chance to patiently repeat the plan for the fifteenth time—

"Who're you trying to suffocate?"

At that moment, Ron squeezed himself in between Seamus and Neville and grabbed a plate of kippers, massaging his teeth. "I really ought to watch my step nowadays…"

"Ron!" Dean said with fake bravado, "you're back already? Madame Pomfrey is really getting faster at healing nowadays…"

"Actually, I would've been back sooner if Dobby hadn't tried to encourage me to dance the polka with him," Ron sighed resignedly. "If I didn't know any better, it would have seemed as though he was trying to keep me from going to the Great Hall just like he was trying to keep Harry from school in our second year."

Harry laughed nervously. "Just like Dobby to do that," he said, adjusting his glasses and taking an unnecessarily large gulp of milk.

Ron stared at his friends. Harry seemed like he was trying to drown himself in dairy products, Dean was making a show of mopping up his lap with a napkin, and Seamus and Neville were stuffing themselves with eggs. "Erm… right," he said, and, finding Seamus and Neville inspirational, began stuffing himself with kippers and toast.

As Ron busied himself with a jug of pumpkin juice, Harry, Neville, Dean, and Seamus all eyed each other and sighed in relief.

Ron looked up, looked at them, looked at his plate, looked back at them, shrugged, and continued pouring out another glass of pumpkin juice.

-x-

Halfway through breakfast, the four boys got up hastily and told Ron that they had to do something extremely quick and would come back later.

Ron was currently too interested in a shepherd's pie to care much and merely nodded.

"Whew, that was close," Seamus breathed, as soon as they were out of earshot. "He almost heard the plan."

"Bill and Charlie wouldn'tve been too pleased with us, would they?" Harry said grimly.

After a few flights of stairs and an episode concerning Neville on the vanishing step, they finally reached a corridor featuring a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy unsuccessfully teaching a few trolls how to dance ballet. After watching Barnabas pirouette and pivot at random intervals, and noticing the door was already there, since Bill and Charlie were already within (and it helped that they told the wall that Harry and the others should see it too). Resisting the urge to barge in and demand how the potion was going, Harry willed himself to open the door calmly and walk inside.

"Hullo," he said conversationally, "how's the potion going?"

The mood of the room changed as he saw Bill stirring the cauldron rather angrily, and looked up at Charlie as if searching for explanation.

"Blimey, Bill," Dean said from behind Harry, "er… all right?"

"I'm—" here, he stirred rather violently—"fine," he said, almost causing some of the contents of the cauldron to spill out.

"If you must know," Charlie said with some amusement, "he became a bit touchy when I just mentioned a Beauxbaton girl in passing."

Harry's eyes widened. "A Beauxbaton girl?" he asked.

"Which one?" asked Neville, chuckling.

All present looked down at Bill, who was now throwing more flower petals into the cauldron.

Harry couldn't help it. "Fleur?"

Bill chose to lapse into what he evidently thought was a dignified silence, stirring the cauldron so violently the cauldron shifted positions slightly with each stir.

"Will you at least tell us when it'll be finished?"

Bill blinked and looked down at the potion properly.

"Well, er…" he said, and he checked it against a book he had been studying beside him. "Erm… actually, it would normally take three to seven days, but… I've been stirring it so fast, and I don't think I've spilled any—or have I?—no, I haven't… that means it could be finished by…"

Everyone in the room held their breath.

"Tomorrow by lunch should do the trick."

Everybody cheered, and Charlie gave Bill a rather loud kiss on the cheek.

"Let's just hope McLaggen falls out of love with Hermione," Harry said, "or this might complicate matters."

The cheering died down.

"Oh, you just have to go and ruin the fun," Seamus said, looking down at the potion.

There were a few awkward moments.

Then everybody resumed celebrating.

-x-

The next day, in Transfiguration (Ron had been warned not to act heroically in class from hereon in and was placed in a seat in the furthest corner), Harry eyed the nearly-sane McLaggen and Hermione trying to work on the same desk. It was very hard work, as the chinchillas they were supposed to be transfiguring kept ramming into each other. It was rather loud in the classroom, so Harry had no problem talking to the others about the plans in low voices. "Seamus, did you check in on Bill and Charlie earlier?"

Seamus nodded eagerly. "Sure enough," he said excitedly. "Bill was still stirring like a madman, wanted to keep going at the same pace he'd started at. Charlie was dictating out of the book—he said it should be done right after this class, before lunch."

"Perfect," Harry breathed. "Neville, do you have the paper bag I gave you?"

"Erm…" Neville said, checking his robe-pockets. "They're not here…"

Everybody groaned at intervals.

"It's not inbetween my books…"

Groan.

"It's not in my book bag…"

Groan.

"Oh, here it is! It looks like a ruddy piece of parchment, it's a good thing I didn't use it…"

"All right," said Harry, choosing to forget what just happened, "McLaggen's still slightly addled, so he might still think that Hermione's just wearing a bag over her head for some odd fashion reason, and hopefully he doesn't think to wear one too… but if all goes well he'll ignore it, and then that's when I creep up in my Invisibility Cloak and pour the Amortentia into his pumpkin juice."

"It sounds all right to me," said Dean thoughtfully. "Just as long as he doesn't fall in love with the Hermione with the bag over her head. That might be slightly weird."

"Nah, Bill and Charlie said that he'd have to see someone's face. Are you guys ready?"

"Definitely!" every boy had a picture of extreme maliciousness on their faces, just as the bell rang for lunch.

-x-

"No, Cormac, we are not sitting with your friends today." Hermione said for the fifth time that day, beginning to lose her patience.

"You said it was my turn to sit with my friends this week," McLaggen said rather immaturely—the Euphoric Spell's effects were still coursing rather lightly through his veins.

Hermione nodded, resisting the urge to just walk at her own speed and drag him behind to the Great Hall. "No, I never." she said again, her voice losing the patient motherly touch she was so good with back home. "You sat with your friends yesterday, and today is my turn. Now, don't argue."

"Are you sure it's your turn?" McLaggen demanded, "Because you can't lie to me 'Mione."

Hermione was now become so peeved at him that she seriously considered advising him to shut up before she hexed him so hard that he'd turn into a pile of giant's bogeys when everything suddenly went dark.

"What the—?"

"Hermione, shut up, we're saving you," Harry's voice whispered.

Thankfully enough, Hermione had stopped in front of a rather large tapestry depicted Gorgoroth the Gross picking his nose, and McLaggen, not noticing the abrupt halt, began watching the ugly troll explore its nasal passages.

"_Muffliato_," Harry said, pointing his wand to McLaggen.

Turning back to the bagged Hermione, he shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you and Ro—tell you about this before, but we thought that an accident would happen if we did."

Seamus, Dean, and Neville all nodded energetically behind him.

"Hermione can't see you, you prats," Harry said, in an annoyed voice.

"Oh right…" they said rather sheepishly.

"It's Neville, Seamus, and Dean," Neville said rather helpfully.

"Thanks for enlightening me, Neville," Hermione said, rather irritably, "but do you mind telling me the plan now? I don't like being kept in the dark… pardon the pun."

"Ha, ha," Harry said dryly. "Well, in any cases, Bill and Charlie have made a love potion."

"How's that supposed to help?" Hermione asked in a strangled voice. "What if McLaggen just starts loving me more?"

Harry turned to look at McLaggen, who seemed to find Gorgoroth the Gross as a source of inspiration and was following in the troll's footsteps. "That's why there's a bag over your head, Hermione. The potion requires him to see a face, and well, with the bag over your head, which Neville put on you, he can't see your face, so he can't fall in love with you. He'll fall in love with the first face he sees."

"I could suffocate in this, you know!"

"If you were going to suffocate you would have started getting hot about two minutes ago, Hermione. We put some holes in the top. We're not brainless oafs, you know."

"But I _am_ getting hot," Hermione said, sounding thoroughly muffled.

Harry checked over the bag impatiently. "What are you talking about? Neville, where are the holes I told you to puncture?"

"Oops…"

"Darn you, Neville!"

-x-

Just as they were reaching for the door handle of the Great Hall, Bill and Charlie burst out of it, as though looking for somebody, when they caught sight of Harry leading a bagged Hermione and a rather bored looking McLaggen, followed by Dean, Seamus, and Neville.

"Oh, there you are," Bill sighed, evidently relieved. "We thought you guys couldn't make it."

"Well hurry up!" Charlie said, pulling Hermione in. "Sorry about that, Hermione, but did they tell you about the plan?"

"Eventually," Hermione said through the bag. "But I just hope this works."

Bill and Charlie looked at each other as though they were sharing a private secret. "Oho," Bill said, his eye twinkling. "You're talking to the people who _taught_ Fred and George to be who they are today. Our plans never fail."

Harry merely rolled his eyes and sat down with the rest (although McLaggen, with a little more reluctance—"But _whyyyyyyyyyyy_?" "_Be__cause_, now sit down!")

Leaning across the table, Bill poured a phial of Amortentia into McLaggen's goblet, who was looking at Hermione with whining eyes.

"Why do you have a bag over your head?"

Hermione stalled for time, picking up a spoon, replacing it, and then picking up a fork. "Erm… we played truth or dare, and my dare was to wear this bag over my head for breakfast."

McLaggen seemed content enough with this answer. "Oh."

There was a pause as everyone, sans McLaggen, eyed each other nervously.

"Can I play too?"

Harry looked over at Bill and Charlie, who were obviously running a million plans through their heads.

"You know what, McLaggen?" Bill said, smirking, "Why not? Truth or dare, you?"

"Dare."

Charlie wore a smirk almost identical to his brother's. Catching on, he said, "I dare you to chug down your pumpkin juice and…"

"And look at the Slytherin table!" prompted Bill.

McLaggen shrugged. He chugged down his pumpkin juice and immediately turned around—but he didn't have to look far. Draco Malfoy was being frog marched to the Staff Table by a rather angry looking Professor Flitwick, who seemed to be drenched in milk.

McLaggen's pupils dilated and retracted as he focused on Malfoy's face.

When he turned around, everyone was trying to control their laughter as McLaggen let out an audible sigh.

"Her—Hermione?" Dean said, feeling a stitch in his side from so much laughter, "I think it's safe to c—come out now, hahahahahaha!"

When Hermione removed the bag, the first thing she saw was McLaggen's face; he looked as though he had just seen the mythological goddess of love herself.

"Malfoy," he said breathily, saying it as though it were a spell.

"Hermione," Harry said, once he managed to stop laughing. "D'you—d'you think he's forgotten about you?"

Hermione looked over at McLaggen. "I honestly doubt it—he's been hit by a million hexes and he still pulled through—" This was interrupted by McLaggen's loud announcement that his new favorite animals were ferrets—"but you're right, I should try."

And she got up from the bench and did an enormous tug…

_**finite**_


	26. A chapter with a disappointing ending

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

-smirks- Enjoy...

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Twenty Six: A chapter with a disappointing ending**

Hermione groaned and sat up—or, tried to, rather. McLaggen's rather heavy body was slumped on top of her, and she could neither move nor at least shift him off. _Bugger!_ she thought irately, _how can that stupid prat like me and Draco at once? This is wrong on _so_ many levels_.

Out of the corner of her eye (the other one was obstructed by one of McLaggen's hands) she could see Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie flying about the Great Hall with Neville strumming on a harp, as it appeared they had sprouted wings. _Pink_ wings. As if this sight wasn't strange enough, they seemed to be flying in a synchronized fashion around Ron and Lavender, who were snogging.

Suddenly filled with an inhumanely rage, she yelled (as clearly as she could, due to McLaggen's tie half-gagging her), "Ih shuh be n-meee!" she half cried. "Ih shuh be n-meee!"

All of a sudden, McLaggen seemed to go spastic, and began to tremble.

Hermione ignored this; all she could see was Ron and Lavender connected by the lips. "Ih shuh be n-meee!"

"_Hermione_!"

Hermione blinked and opened her eyes, to see Harry vigorously shaking her. "Hermione! Wake up!"

Sitting up, as though shocked by an electric current, she looked around quickly. McLaggen appeared to be staring at his plate with a dreamy look on his face—about a rough ten feet away. Hermione looked up at Harry and Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie, who hurried down the aisle to look worriedly at her. "I'm not…" she sputtered, disbelievingly, "I'm not… we're not… no more…?"

Bill and Charlie shook their heads as the rest broke out into grins.

Hermione leapt to her feet and hugged the person nearest her, who happened to be Neville. "I'm free!" she squealed happily. A few Hufflepuffs turned around and gave her a brief weird look before turning back to their lunch.

"You must have some mad power, Hermione," Dean said, half in awe. "You tugged on McLaggen so hard you flew down the aisle and hit your head on the tile."

"Knocked yourself out, you did," Seamus added, grinning.

Harry nodded, and suddenly smiled mischievously. "Yeah, and what was this about you muttering something that sounded like, 'It should be me! It should be me!'?"

Hermione suddenly blushed beet-red. "Erm," she said, "er… I don't remember," she managed to say.

Harry and the others nodded, thoroughly unconvinced. "Right," he said slowly. "But in any cases, Hermione, you're not attached to McLaggen anymore!"

"I know!" Hermione said, relieved that they didn't dwell on her brief dream and hugging Neville again. "I'm so pleased—thanks so much, guys."

Bill and Charlie beamed rather proudly, as Harry looked up to the entrance doors, just in time to see Ron stalking away.

-x-

Ron rushed into the Great Hall, his stomach rumbling viciously. Professor McGonagall had kept him back to discuss the latest piece of homework he had turned in. All in all, Ron thought, it had been rather pointless, as she already talked about it in class. It seemed as though she was keeping him back rather on purpose—but waving that thought away, he concentrated on what would be for lunch.

However, as he pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the Great Hall, a rather surprising sight beheld him—Harry, Dean, Seamus, Bill, and Charlie were standing in the middle aisle converged around what seemed to be Hermione hugging Neville.

His heart dropped into his stomach. Not feeling remotely hungry anymore, he remained rooted to the floor, staring at Hermione, before finally wrenching his feet away to walk back up to the dormitories.

"Ron! Oy, Ron!"

Ron looked back to see Harry running after him, waving frantically. "Ron!"

Disgruntled, Ron turned away and scrabbled at his eyes. "What?" he grunted, trying his best to sound offbeat.

Finally catching up to him, Harry slowed down and kept pace with his best friend. "Why aren't you coming in to lunch?" he asked. "Are you not hungry? I don't believe that." He then pressed the back of his hand to Ron's forehead as though checking his temperature. "You're not warm or anything."

Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Don't pretend like you didn't see," he snapped. "You and the rest were all watching Hermione hugging Neville like—"

"—and you didn't notice McLaggen standing anywhere near, did you?" Harry interrupted.

Ron stopped, opened and closed his mouth, and appeared to think it over. "You got those two separated?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You bet," Harry said, nodding.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Ron resumed stalking away from the Great Hall at a pace Harry almost struggled to keep up with. "And she celebrated by hooking up with Neville, did she?" he grumbled.

Harry almost laughed. "Hermione and Neville—you think she likes Neville?" he asked almost disbelievingly.

Ron nodded moodily. "I know what she thinks of him, always wanting to help him and be with him—"

"Only because she's nice enough to do that, Ron," Harry said, grabbing the scruff of Ron's collar to stop him walking up the stairs. "She was just so pleased that she and McLaggen weren't connected that she hugged the person who was nearest. That's all."

Ron studied Harry. "That's the story?" he asked, his voice holding a hint of disbelief. "That's it, you expect me to believe that?"

"Yes I do," Harry said firmly, "because it's the truth. We all know who she fancies, although you need to learn to take a hint. That's all."

Harry turned back to the Great Hall and called over his shoulder, "I can't say anymore because it's not my place to, so I'm gonna let you think about it. You'd better come to lunch too, unless you plan on spending the rest of the day hungry."

And with that, Harry walked back to the Great Hall, leaving Ron standing on the first step on the marble staircase, his ears turning pink.

-x-

"Where'd you disappear to, Harry?" Bill asked, shoveling down soup. "You missed it—I must have stirred the potion so quickly that it became far too strong. Malfoy was coming back down from the Staff Table, and, hahahaha, McLaggen—McLaggen—" here, Bill clutched at his stomach, chortling with the rest. "Get this, Harry," said Bill, wiping an eye, "but McLaggen tackles the git, or well, he tries to. I've heard Malfoy was quite a twitchy little ferret, so he dodges out of the way and _dives_ for the Slytherin table. Hahahaha, now _that_ bloke—" Bill hitched a thumb down at the end of the table, where McLaggen sat with his friends, nursing his head, "crashes into the floor. Nearly knocked himself out just like Hermione did."

Harry laughed along with everyone else. "Where's Hermione, anyway?" Harry asked, looking around.

"I think she went to get her stuff from the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitories before next class," Charlie said, stuffing his mouth with a hard-boiled egg. "But forget where she is right now—where were you?"

Remembering Ron standing on the edge of the stairs, Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. "I was chasing Ron," he said.

The grins were wiped off of his friends' faces.

"I don't think I heard you correctly, Harry," Dean said, frowning, "but I think I heard you say that you were chasing Ron?"

Harry shrugged worriedly. "He was coming in late from Transfiguration, right? After we asked Professor McGonagall to hold him back for a while?"

"Yeah," Seamus said slowly, "and?"

"So he walks in while Hermione and Neville were hugging, and he thought… well, he thought… he thought Neville and Hermione had hooked up," Harry finished.

Neville's jaw dropped. "He thought Hermione and me hooked up?"

"I don't think he thinks that anymore," Harry added, striving to keep a smile on his face. "I think I convinced him that she was really pleased about being disconnected from McLaggen, but he seemed to be a little unconvinced. He probably went to the Boys' Dormitories."

At this, a nearly-identical smile split across Bill and Charlie's faces.

"What?" asked Harry, disconcerted.

Bill sipped his pumpkin juice, smirking. "Ron's _in_ the Boys' Dormitories…"

"And Hermione's going to the Boys' Dormitories to get her things," Charlie added.

"They may not be in the same one," Bill said, sounding slightly disappointed, "but they're in the same wing. They're bound to see each other in the hallway."

"So this may not be too much of a disaster," Charlie said, grinning. "Oh, I wish we could see it, but we might ruin the moment."

-x-

At that moment, Ron had changed course and veered off to the one place he never thought he'd go on his own accord: the library. For one thing, he knew his friends wouldn't think of finding him in there, and for another, it always seemed to help Hermione think. And if anything was good for Hermione, it was good enough for him.

Merlin, even _thinking_ about Hermione felt a little painful. Ron had no idea what the deal was—he thought she'd said she loved him, but that was, after all, in his head. Sure, it sounded like Hermione a lot, sure, it helped him in Potions, but it was still all in his head. _I must be going mad_, Ron thought sourly, _to think Hermione would actually love a bloke like me._

Grabbing the nearest chair, Ron collapsed into it and covered his face with his hands, sighing. He looked up. There seemed to be something underneath his foot. He bent down and picked up the culprit—an Arithmancy book.

-x-

Hermione was busy searching the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitories—or rather, searching and trashing the place. Ripping off bedspreads, emptying trunks, overturning the rug—but the one thing she was searching for wasn't there.

Hermione ceased her inspection and placed her chin in her hands, her mouth set. Where could her Arithmancy book be?

_FLASHBACK_

Hermione was dragging McLaggen to the library two days previously so she could research mathematical terms to integrate into her Arithmancy essay. Acknowledging that Madam Pince didn't have the specific Arithmancy book she used in class, she managed to find her own, which was still in McLaggen's possession. McLaggen, being an idiotic git, wouldn't let go of the book, but consented to bring it to the library.

"Don't drop it or lose it," Hermione reminded McLaggen, still irked that he wouldn't give it back to her. "But I mean, it _is_ mine, after all," Hermione added. "I don't know why you won't give it back to me."

But McLaggen had merely clutched the book to his chest and shook his head vigorously.

At the library, McLaggen had set the book on the table, his mind wandering as he fidgeted with his fingers, toes, and basically everything, as being in a library had bored him even when he was sane.

When he and Hermione returned to the Dormitories, he hadn't been clutching a book at all.

_END FLASHBACK_

"Damn!" Hermione swore, hitting herself in the forehead. Normally, she wouldn't have used profanity, but the idea that she had almost regained possession of her Arithmancy book and having it slip out of her clutches yet again angered her slightly. Not only was it one of her favorite subjects—no, her favorite _out_ of her favorite subjects—the book was something more. There was something in her Arithmancy book that only she knew about, and if anybody found out about it, it would be taking one of her deepest secrets out of her. But actually, Hermione reflected, it seemed like a very obvious secret. It wasn't so well-hidden, and it was quite obvious if anybody had the patience to sit down and figure out what it was. From time to time, the book gave itself away—betrayed a little bit of itself for people to see—but it was never anything so serious for Hermione to worry about. But with the book continually out of her possession, with all of her friends (and not to mention, one or two people she'd like to keep away from it), her secret was bound to be discovered—and she wasn't too pleased about that.

_I must be going mad to think Hermione would actually love a bloke like me._

Hermione's head snapped up, her thoughts interrupted. Was she really and truly hearing Ron's thoughts, or was Neville right?

Was she just tired, and were all her problems getting to her head?

For a while, she didn't hear "Ron's" voice, and, convinced that she had just been thinking too much, resumed searching the dormitory _just_ in case she had missed McLaggen bringing it back. If she didn't find it in the next ten minutes, there was nothing for it—she'd have to search the library.

-x-

Ron stared at the book for a full minute, trying to comprehend what he had just found. There are over five hundred books in this castle just like Hermione's, just because he had found one didn't mean that it was hers—did it?

His hand trembling slightly, he opened it and looked at the cover.

_This book belongs to H. J. Granger_.

Once again, Ron stared at the name. It was too much of a coincidence. He didn't know any other Grangers who took Arithmancy. This book had to be _hers_.

His reverie was disturbed by his growling stomach. Picking up the book, he left to go to the Great Hall to eat in the remaining lunchtime he had left.

-x-

Hermione, having run all the way from the dormitories to the library, bent over double in the doorway and panted a bit, attempted to get her breathing normal, for she knew Madam Pince frowned upon heavy breathers (and maybe even more). Finally achieving this, she walked inside and headed straight for the table she and McLaggen had been at. She checked the stack of books that was on it, and not finding her book there, patted every single chair and dropped down on the floor, searching for it. She found one or two fallen books, but neither of them were hers. Finding that they looked quite interesting, Hermione set them on the pile on top of the table and made a mental note to come back for them later.

Straightening up, she looked around. "Where in bloody blazes is my book?" she muttered, running her hand through her hair in annoyance.

Seeing that there was nothing for it, she walked up to the librarian herself, who was dusting off the Li – Lo shelf. "Erm… Madam Pince?" she asked apprehensively. "Have you seen an Arithmancy textbook anywhere, Madam Pince?"

Madam Pince turned around and gave Hermione a haughty stare over her feather-duster. "I can't say I have," she said, after what seemed to be an interminable pause. All of a sudden, Madam Pince peered closely at Hermione's face, looking rather angry. "Why… have you _thrown away_ your book?"

Hermione backed away—her face was _far_ too close. "N-no," she squeaked. "I… I misplaced my book, I… was in here to research with other books and I probably—probably just left it here…"

Madam Pince reared back and gave Hermione one more glare before turning back to the book shelves. "If I find you misplace your books regularly, Granger, you'll find you won't be able to take out books for quite a while."

"No!" Hermione said quickly, "This is one of the only times I've ever misplaced… actually, my friend did, he was supposed to be taking care of my book and left it here."

"So you say," Madam Pince replied. "But no, I haven't seen an Arithmancy book lying about—if I had, I would have picked it up. I like to keep my library clean, and I don't leave books lying around." At this statement, the librarian gave Hermione such a severe glare that Hermione realized she should get out before she was beaten with a feather-duster.

"Erm, okay then," Hermione managed to say, "thanks for your help Madam…"

-x-

"All right class," tiny Professor Flitwick squeaked from his desk, "today we will be learning the _Specialis Revelio_ spell—who can tell me what it does?"

As usual, Hermione's hand shot up in the air.

"Yes, Ms. Granger?"

"The _Specialis Revelio_ is a spell, that when cast, can reveal the properties of an object. It is used most commonly in Potions, particularly when finding the components of a poison, and is essential in finding the antidote."

"Correct!" Professor Flitwick beamed. "Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville beamed at Hermione, who beamed back—however, Ron was staring pointedly at the ceiling, his ears becoming red.

"Now normally, you'd have to learn this mainly in Potions," their wee Professor continued, "but I disagree! You don't only use this spell as a tool in finding antidotes, although that is dead useful. But you can use them on animals and people (though I highly discourage it), and basically any object—walls, staircases, books…"

Ron sat up a little straighter in his chair, and surreptitiously felt the corner of Hermione's Arithmancy book in his book bag.

Today's class had been slightly more interesting than usual, Ron thought on the whole. Throughout the practical portion of the class, Flitwick had them pair up—he with Harry, of course—and had them put an enchantment of sorts on an object that was given to them. He had given Harry a pair of socks that forced Harry to lie on the ground with his feet in the air as he wore them, and Harry had given him a piece of parchment, that when he stared at it, made him see a specific name…

Then, using _Specialis Revelio_ on the item, they were to find out which spell had been used on it. Around them were some extremely entertaining results—Seamus was rolling around on the ground, laughing his head off whilst wearing mittens, Neville was dancing the ballet as he gingerly held a book at arms length, and Hermione had a red hat on, which was apparently trying to make her say something, which she viciously battled against.

"R—R…" she began to say, screwing her eyes shut. "R—"

"Use the spell!" Flitwick said loudly, balancing on a precariously tipping pile of books.

"R…" Hermione said in a constrained voice. Her partner, Neville, had stopped dancing long enough and looked anxiously at Hermione, straining his ears. "_SPECIALIS REVEL_—OW!" Hermione roared, her wand poised to her head.

The spell obviously did not work, as halfway through the incantation, she had jabbed herself in the side of her forehead. The red hat, still on and weakening her, Hermione sank to her knees, rubbing her head. "Ow… R… R… on…" she mumbled, tears springing from her eyes. Around her, aside from Neville, were Dean and Seamus, had stopped working completely, and Harry was watching out of the corner of his eye interestedly, while Ron was still staring at the parchment, unable to rip his eyes from it.

Dean and Seamus came closer to Hermione and bent over her. "What'd you say, Hermione?" Dean asked, "Care to repeat that?"

"Ow…" Hermione insisted.

Seamus looked at Neville, impressed with his wandwork. "Blimey, Neville, what'd you do?"

"Weakening Hex," Neville muttered, taken aback by how strongly his spell had worked. "Combined it with an Admitting Charm… she taught me how to," he added, inclining his head towards Hermione.

"Well, whatever it is," Harry said, coming over, "it's working really well, look—"

"…on…" Hermione mumbled weakly into her hands. "R… on…"

At the sound of his name, Ron wrenched his eyes away from the parchment and saw Hermione kneeling on the ground, her face in her hands. "Hermione!"

"R…" Hermione started, continuing to fight the Admitting Charm. "R… R…"

Ron bounded over to Hermione in what seemed to be a single leap (to the great amusement of his friends) and ripped off the hat. Kneeling down and taking her hands away from her face, he peered into it. "Hermione! Hermione, are you okay?"

Hermione looked up, her cheeks wet. "Ron…?"

Ron looked deeply concerned. "Are you all right? What was in that hat?" He rounded on Neville angrily. "What the hell did you do to her?"

Neville looked slightly scared and threw up his hands defensively. "I…"

"With this bloke again, are you?" he snapped at Hermione, sharply.

Hermione got up slowly, rubbing her hands together. "Ron, what're you—"

"Don't deny that you and him are going out," Ron said shortly. "I—"

"Stop interrupting me!" Hermione interrupted (which appeared slightly ironic to everyone else), her cheeks pinking. "Neville's just a really good friend, I don't know how you think we're going out, because we're _not_. I don't love him that way, I love…"

"Yeah?" Ron challenged, his ears reddening. "Who do you love, then?"

Hermione wiped her eyes angrily. "I love—"

_RINGGGGG!_

Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville groaned. As their classmates rushed around in a flurry, packing their bags in accompaniment with Flitwick's squeals of practicing the _Specialis Revelio_ for homework, Hermione merely dumped all of her things into her bag, wiped her eyes viciously one last time, and hurried out amongst everyone else.

After a few seconds, Ron turned on his heel, grabbed his things, and left as well, leaving Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville to gape at the area where they were last standing in extreme disappointment.

**_finite_**


	27. The Godfather Gang and evening detention

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Twenty Seven: The Godfather Gang and evening detention**

"That was _insane_!" Harry muttered feverishly to Dean, Seamus, and Neville as they hurried down the corridors to the dungeons for a Potions class with Hufflepuff. "They were this close… _this_ close—" Harry held his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart to indicate how close they were—"to telling each other they loved each other. _Thiiiiis_ close! Sodding bell." Harry shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked down the corridor.

"Yeah," Dean said miserably. "I can't believe it."

"I know, can you believe it?" Neville cried, flinging his arms up in the air.

Harry, Dean, and Seamus gave Neville an odd look. "Yes, Neville," Seamus said with sarcastic patience, "we already established that we didn't believe what just happened."

"Sorry," Neville mumbled sheepishly, "I just wanted to…" but his voice trailed off, his mumblings about wanting to be a part of the conversation went unheard as they reached the Potions classroom.

Professor Snape looked up sharply as they walked in. "You're la—" he started, but, glancing at the clock, noticed that they were three minutes early and changed tactic at the speed of greasy light. "You're la—ucky class hasn't begun yet, Potter, or there would have been a lot of points to take from Gryffindor," he said silkily. "Sit."

Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville all eyed each other and strove to keep straight faces as they sat down.

As Harry took his seat, he found Ron already sitting in his seat next to him, slouched moodily over his textbook, blankly staring at the blackboard. Harry tentatively waved a hand in front of his face.

"Er, Ron?"

Wave, wave, wave.

"You there, mate?"

Wave, wave, wave.

"Helloooo…"

Wave, wave, "OUCH!"

Harry gave Ron a sulky glare and rubbed his smarting hand. "There was no need to hit it, you know—"

"Potter! Weasley! Ten points from Gryffindor. There is to be no roughhousing in the dungeons!"

Harry managed to give Snape his most sarcastic smile before turning back to Ron. "What's wrong? You're actually early for Potions for once. Y'know, I'm really starting to think you're ill."

Ron waved an irritable hand, which hit his cauldron rather painfully. Wringing it ("Now you know how it feels!" Harry said triumphantly. "Ten more points from Gryffindor, and if I hear another word out of you two I'm making it a round fifty!"), he said, "'M fine, Harry… I just—I… I dunno."

Harry watched his friend turn maroon.

"Does it… erm, have anything to do with, say… Hermione?" Harry asked casually, shrugging exaggeratedly (careful to give his cauldron a wide berth).

The results were instantaneous, not to mention, amusing, to Harry and Seamus, Dean, and Neville, who were seated close by, listening to every word Harry and Ron were saying.

"What did I say?" Harry asked innocently, watching Ron's color outstrip a tomato.

Ron opened and closed his mouth several times before managing a, "You—"

"Sorry I'm late, Professor!" The door flew open with a crash.

Snape, already beginning to write on the board, turned around with what looked like a satisfied sneer. "Late, Ms. Granger," he said shortly. "Five points from Gryffindor."

"Fifteen… sodding… points…" Harry heard Seamus mumble resignedly into his hands from behind.

Hermione, looking extremely flustered, took her seat beside Neville and immediately began searching her book bag as Snape began to speak. "I am sure that all of you," he began, in tones that betrayed extreme doubt in his students, "can tell me what Golpalott's Third Law states."

Snape's black eyes sweeped the room, ignoring Hermione's rigid hand.

"Nobody?" he asked silkily. "How about you, Weasley?"

Ron, who had been glancing back at where Hermione and Neville were sitting with suspicious eyes, looked up at Snape guiltily. "Erm," he said, "two beakers of platypus bile?"

The dungeon erupted into laughter as Snape gave Ron a disdainful look. "Obviously, the brains skipped you and your twin brothers in the family," he sneered.

Harry was about to angrily open his mouth and tell Snape exactly what he thought of him and had already began to say "D'you know what _I_—", however, before he could continue his monologue to Snape about how much he despised him, he was interrupted.

"You have no right to humiliate Ron!" Hermione said shrilly, no longer sitting on her chair. "No disrespect meant, sir, but even though you are the professor, _most_ teachers have the decency to hold back their insulting tongues."

Silence greeted this remark as Ron's ears bypassed maroon while Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville bit their own tongues to prevent laughter.

Snape walked over to Hermione and looked down at her. "You may not have meant disrespect, but every word you spoke betrayed some, Ms. Granger," he said quietly, his eyes glinting. "I believe a detention is in order… and," he added as an afterthought, whirling around to face Ron. "Ten points from Gryffindor for you, Mr. Weasley. This is not the first time you haven't been paying attention in class. Maybe next time you'll learn when exactly to use your tongue in my dungeons."

Snape started back to the blackboard, as the whole of the Gryffindor House gaped at Snape's retreating back. Ron, sizzling with the injustice of it all, turned to Harry angrily. "What was that all about?" he whispered angrily. "Stupid biased git!"

Harry winced. Everything else Ron had whispered. _This_, he had yelled out.

The dungeon was unnaturally silent as Snape looked up from the blackboard to Ron. "Who, exactly, is a stupid biased git, Mr. Weasley?" he asked, his voice dangerously smooth.

Ron managed out what sounded vaguely like, "Unicorn."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Detention, Weasley. Maybe you didn't hear me the first time, but you should learn exactly when to use your tongue in my dungeons—before I use it for one of my potions."

Instead of the customary awed silence, a loud explosion greeted his pronouncement in the next room.

Snape looked disorientated for a moment, and strode out of the dungeons.

Ron put his head facedown on his desk and sighed morosely as Harry immediately turned around to Dean, Seamus, and Neville, who scooted across the aisle on his chair (Hermione, in the meanwhile, was oblivious to all of this, as she was mortified that she had received a detention). "I think we've got our work cut out for us!" he whispered gleefully to them.

Dean and Neville nodded energetically as Seamus said, "Can you imagine the possibilities… Ron and Hermione, alone in detention."

There was a pause.

Then, Neville clapped his hands over his eyes. "Images…" he muttered. "Go away, images…"

"Thanks a lot, Neville, for dirtying my pure mind!"

"Sorry, Dean…"

"What pure mind, Dean?"

"Oh, shut up, Harry."

"Did you guys say my name?"

Four guilty pairs of eyes looked back at Ron, who looked as though he had just woken up. "No, of course not Ron!" Seamus said a little too quickly. "We actually said… we actually said… mon."

"Mon." Ron repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Dean said, "you know… like… ya mon!"

Ron was about to answer when the smell of his mother's cooking and the perfume he had given Hermione suddenly filled his nostrils. Alarmed, he looked at Hermione to see if she had the bottle with her and checked to door as if expecting his mother there laden with dishes of her cooking. Seeing that Hermione didn't have the perfume and assuring himself that his mother wasn't hiding underneath an invisibility cloak, he looked around the classroom to see if anybody else had noticed.

"D'you smell that, mate?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Seamus answered dubiously. "I… well, I smell—" he cut himself off, looking slightly embarrassed.

"So do I," Harry answered, looking around the room wildly, as though looking for somebody. "It smells all… flowery."

"I smell newspaper," Neville said, beginning to blush.

If there was a lightbulb over Seamus's head, it would have lit up. "You guys!" he said suddenly, watching his classmates get dazed looks on their faces. "I think this is Amortentia!"

Simultaneously, Harry, Dean, and Neville hit their heads (resulting in Neville almost toppling off of his chair).

"We should've known," Harry breathed, watching spirals of steam waft through the door. "After watching Bill and Charlie, you'd think we'd know a little bit about it."

Dean suddenly wore a look of mischievousness on his face. "Oy, Ron," he called to Ron, who was glassy-eyed. "Ron!"

Harry, who was closest, shook Ron. "Ouch! Bugger! What?"

Harry inclined his head towards Dean. "What do you smell?" Dean asked, gesturing towards the door.

"Oh, er," Ron said, feeling his ears begin to go red. "I smell my mom's cooking."

"And?" prompted Seamus.

"Erm… other… stuff… I don't really know what it is," he finished meekly.

"…Right," Harry said, giving Ron a look that plainly said 'I know better than you.'

At the sound of rushed footsteps, the class immediately went silent. After a few moments, Filch went running past the door, awkwardly holding a cauldron in his hands, its contents threatening to spill out.

Not long after this rather disturbing sight, Snape entered the room, swiftly pocketing what appeared to be money.

"Well," he said, as though nothing had happened, "can anybody tell me what Golpalott's Third Law states?"

-x-

"Harry… are you sure this is necessary?"

"Yeah, I mean, we're already invisible, aren't we? Why are we all squashed together under the bed?"

"_Never_," came Dean's voice, sounding utterly repulsed, "_never_ say it that way again, Neville."

"Sorry," Neville said sheepishly, "but I'm really uncomfortable—"

"Shush!" Harry said impatiently. "Ron's coming up, just… be quiet, all right?"

Harry tried to unfold the Marauder's Map, resulting in papercutting Neville's nose and tickling the side of Seamus's cheek, who rolled over to prevent anymore contact with the parchment, hitting Dean, whose head came into painful contact with Charlie's, who reared back with a strangled "Ouch!", his hair tangling with Bill's dragon-tooth earring, nearly widening his pierce, who started up with a "Bugger!", hitting his own head against the bottom of the bed.

Harry laughed nervously. "Sorry, guys," he said awkwardly, "but we have to find Ron…"

"Ah-ah-ah, Harry!" Dean said, shaking his head regally ("Get your hair out of my face, you stupid prat!"). "Remember?"

_FLASHBACK  
_"We are now christened, The Godfather Gang!" Harry said gleefully at dinner (Ron was in the bathroom).

Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie applauded.

"You were raised with Muggles, weren't you Harry?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Erm," Harry said, disconcerted, "unfortunately... yes. Why? What does this have to do with anything?"

"Well, d'you know what Muggles do when they christen a ship?"

Harry stared blankly at the table for a moment before looking at Dean, slightly alarmed. "You are _not_," he began, but was interrupted by Dean suddenly attacking his head with a butterbeer bottle. "Ouch!"

"Ow!"

"Ow! _Dean_!"

"Ouch!"

"Ow—_bugger_!"

"Quit, you stupid prat!" Seamus roared at Dean. "One, _we're not Muggles_. Two… WE'RE NOT BLOODY SHIPS!"

"Sorry," Dean said, grinning embarrassedly, "but I thought it would be a nice ritual… you know…"

Bill looked at everyone else, picking up a bottle. "You're right, Dean. But—you haven't been hit with a bottle yet, have you?"

Harry, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie chased Dean out of the Great Hall, wielding butterbeer bottles.  
_END FLASHBACK_

Harry rubbed his forehead, which was beginning to smart, although not from his scar. "Yes, I remember," he said grumpily. "And so does my forehead."

"Yes, well," Dean said, trying his best to sound cheerful, "mine does too, but it's all for the sacrifice of the Godfather Gang."

"You didn't have to hit us with bottles, you know," Neville said, frowning, beginning to gingerly feel his head as well.

"Well, all of you already massacred me, so it's even," Dean said, beginning to sound uncomfortable. Keen to change the subject, he glanced at the Marauder's Map. "Hey—" he said suddenly, watching a specific dot enter the Gryffindor Common Room. "Ron's coming up!"

"Where's Hermione?" Charlie asked, craning his neck to see the map. "Ouch—! Sorry, Dean…"

"In the library," Harry muttered, watching Hermione's dot move around the library. "She usually spends most of a Friday night in there."

"Oh, all right," Bill said, watching the Dormitory door. "Hang on… I can hear footsteps. All right everyone, hush."

As soon as the Godfather Gang settled, the door opened quietly, and Ron walked in, taking a book out from his book bag. Collapsing on his bed right in front of the bed the Godfather Gang was hiding beneath, he pulled out his wand. Looking side to side as if to check nobody was watching, he tapped Hermione's Arithmancy book. "_Specialis Revelio_."

Apparently, nothing had happened, as Ron ruffled through the pages and settled back onto his pillows, looking unsatisfied.

"What's wrong?" Neville whispered confusedly.

"He isn't that good at the Revealing Spell yet," Bill answered, as quietly as he could. "He might have to do it a lot of times before anything—if anything—happens. Hopefully he doesn't give up."

Ron looked up from his bed and peered around the room.

Instinctively, the Godfather Gang covered their mouths simultaneously, and tried to hold their breath.

Assuming that it was his imagination, Ron once more diverted his attention toward the textbook, and tapped it once more. "_Specialis Revelio_!"

His sharp intake of breath made Harry look excitedly towards his friends. "I think something happened," he whispered excitedly.

"Naw," Seamus said sarcastically. "Y'think?"

Harry rolled his eyes at him in response, and looked up at Ron.

"The Magnetic Love Curse," Ron muttered, looking intently at the page. "That wasn't there before…"

"Blimey," Charlie whispered to Bill, "Ickle Ronniekins is better than we thought. The book is already beginning to leak."

"Leak?" Dean interrupted, screwing up his nose. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"The things Hermione concealed in that book are beginning to leak out," Bill answered dryly.

However, Ron still looked unsatisfied, and wielded his wand again. Nearly piercing the book, he yelled, "_SPECIALIS REVELIO_!"

At first, nothing happened.

Then, Ron's wand clattered to the floor as he brought the textbook up to his eyes.

"Yep," Charlie confirmed, watching his youngest brother rifle through the pages. "He's found something."

"It should be a little confusing though," Bill muttered, as Ron studied a few pages with a look of confusion on his face. "I don't think he did the spell well enough. If I'm not mistaken, he should have found Hermione's diary… but it'll be mixed in with some text from the Arithmancy textbooks."

Ron stared at the book in his hands. Somehow, he was not holding what appeared to be Hermione's _diary_. Excitedly, he flipped to a random page and began to read.

_Dear Diary,_

_I think he's amazing. I really do love him, embarrassing enough to admit—I'm sure I've made it quite obvious enough that I… well… fancy isn't strong enough of a word. I'm almost positive I'm in love, Diary, and I think I've loved him ever since. I don't think I'll tell him though. Who knows what he's going to say? He'll never treat me the same again._

Ron's heart dropped into his stomach, and he turned back a few pages.

_Dear Diary,_

_Buckbeak and Sirius were saved today. I'm ever so thankful! Now that I'm dropping Muggle Studies I can keep up a normal schedule. Thank Merlin I can still take Arithmancy. I'm rather beginning to like the class a lot. I'm really worried about if the result is greater than nine, the values of digits in the aforementioned number are to be continuously added together until it is reduced to a number that consists of simply one digit. A person's strengths and weaknesses can be determined through this numeric system—_

Ron stared at the page. Hermione was worried about if the result was greater than nine, whatever the hell that was? Shaking his head, he studied the part of the page he understood. Hermione had been using her Arithmancy book as a diary since the Third Year, it seemed. It didn't seem like her to begin talking about Arithmancy in the middle of a diary entry about the night Sirius escaped. Maybe there was a flaw in his spellwork… and, if so, who was Hermione worried about?

Frowning, he turned the page.

_Dear Diary,_

_It's summer vacation. Crookshanks isn't too much of an owl, so I can't correspond with any of my friends unless they send me an owl first. I really miss all of them, especially __Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa von Nettesheim__, a brilliant German magician, also widely known as one of the earliest feminists—_

Ron hit his forehead in annoyance. Hermione missed Heinrich Corn-on-the-cob-what's-his-bloody-name? That didn't make too much sense—most people didn't feel too sad at least ten years after a person's death. This corn-on-the-cob guy must have been dead for at least five hundred years!

What sounded like hoarse whispering interrupted Ron's reverie, and he looked around the room, snapping the book shut. Hiding Hermione's diary under his pillow, he ruffled his hair subconsciously and walked out of the dormitory.

With Ron gone, Seamus finally let out a pained groan. "Dean, mate…" he said weakly, "you have _no_ idea where you kicked me."

"Sorry," Dean said, trying to laugh nervously. Trying to shift away, his foot accidentally kicked out—

"BLOODY HELL!"

"Sorry, Seamus! I'm really, really, really, sorry…"

"Shush!" Harry interrupted. "He's coming back up!"

"But," Seamus said, screwing his eyes shut. "It hurts like bloody blazes, Harry…"

"I know what it feels like!" Harry said quickly, as though wanting to settle the matter. "But we don't want—"

Ron had just re-entered the dormitory, shuffled through his bag, and picked up his Transfiguration book. Opening it to a specific chapter, Ron read it through a few times, mumbled a bit, marked the page, and exited abruptly, though not before giving the bed the Godfather Gang was hidden beneath a strange look.

"All right, Seamus," Harry said, looking up from the Map to a pale Seamus. "You can scream now, he's not even in the Common Room anymore."

There was a pause. Then—

"ARGHHHHHHHHH!"

-x-

Harry went down to the Great Hall with Ron the next morning, scheming about the best way to get Snape fired.

"We should dye his robes pink," Ron muttered vehemently, "I've heard McGonagall doesn't like pink…"

"Or we should bewitch his hair to scream loudly whenever it got too greasy," Harry said, smirking. "That way, it'll scream all the time, and Dumbledore will think his hair interferes with the way he teaches and sack him."

Ron exploded with laughter. However, the moment was ruined when Snape seemed to appear out of thin air in front of them.

"Weasley," he said, narrowing his eyes down at Ron.

"What, is it a crime now to laugh in the corridors?" Ron replied, his ears beginning to redden with anger.

"No," Snape answered, "but it is to be rude to a teacher. Five points will be taken off for your cheek." Ignoring the look on Ron's face that clearly wished him a long and torturous death, he continued, "Your detention is to take place this evening. Winter is nearing and the house-elves need firewood for the kitchens and Common Room fireplaces. You and Ms. Granger are to chop firewood for them… without magic. I expect you to be at the outskirts of the forest at six o' clock sharp, and I shall know if you don't."

"What, aren't you going to be supervising?"

"I am your teacher and expect respect from you, Weasley," Snape sneered, "but, unfortunately, no. I have other business to do—" here, he ran a hand over his pocket, and Ron could hear it jingle slightly—"and beware, just because I won't be there doesn't mean I won't know if you go to your detention or not. So, six o' clock, no magic. You may return to your Common Room at nine o' clock."

And without another word, he swept away.

Ron turned towards Harry, his mouth dropping open. "Firewood! With no magic! For _three hours_! Harry, it's going to be freezing tonight, do you realize—"

"Do _you _realize who you're doing your detention with?" Harry interrupted. For once, he was slightly thankful for Snape's injustice.

Ron halted sharply, causing Harry to nearly run into him. Ruffling his hair, he shrugged. "Yeah…" he said, noncommittally. "I should go tell her about the detention."

Reaching the Great Hall, Ron and Harry looked around for a familiar bush of brown hair. "She's not here," Harry said, frowning.

"Maybe she fell asleep in the library," Ron said, looking concerned.

"Madam Pince would kick her out," Harry pointed out.

Ron nodded slowly. "That's true, that's true," he said. "Well Harry, I'll be back in a bit, I'll just… go find her. I have to say sorry anyway."

Harry clapped his best friend on the back. "You should do that, mate," he said seriously. "I'll see you in a bit."

Ron nodded and left.

Once he was sure Ron had gone, Harry found the rest of the Godfather Gang. "Ron's going off to find Hermione," he said happily, stabbing a few sausages and toast.

Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie instantly converged around him with wide eyes. "To do _what_?" Charlie asked.

"To tell her…" Harry trailed off, buttering toast.

"To tell her what?" Dean asked impatiently.

"To tell her…" Harry repeated, slicing his sausages into bite-size pieces.

Bill nearly leaned over the table to shake Harry. "To tell her _what_ exactly?" he asked, in a carefully measured voice.

"To tell her… when their detention's going to be!" Harry said, stuffing his toast into his mouth to stifle a laugh.

At this, Bill really did shake Harry.

As did the rest of the Godfather Gang.

-x-

Ron was worried. Hermione wasn't in the library, nor the Common Room, and apparently, she wasn't in the Girls' Dormitories either.

"Hey, Parvati, is Hermione in there?" he asked, as Parvati came down the stairs from the Girls' Dormitories.

"Erm, no," Parvati replied, looking over her shoulder. "Actually, she left really early this morning." Suddenly, she grinned mischievously. "Why?" she asked.

"Oh, er…" Ron started, "I was just going to tell her about her detention tonight."

"Ooh, that's right," Parvati gushed, "for telling Snape off for you. You know—"

"Thanks," Ron said hurriedly, "I'll see you around, I guess."

Leaving the Common Room, Ron decided to go to the Great Hall and find her later—but on mere whim, he changed course and headed out to the Grounds. It was a weekend, after all, maybe she was just taking a walk.

He didn't have to look too far.

He spotted Hermione sitting underneath a tree not too far from the Whomping Willow, Crookshanks curled up beneath her knees, with a flower, the wind blowing through her hair gently. Mesmerized by the sight, Ron stopped, hidden well enough that she couldn't see him, but close enough for him to hear her.

"He loves me," he heard her say, "he loves me not… he loves me…" he crept closer, and saw petals land softly on the ground.

He watched until she was nearly done, and stepped out in front of her. However, Hermione seemed to be entranced by the petals, and continued picking them off the flower.

"He loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not…"

Finally, there was only one last petal on the flower, and Hermione took her time with it, looking at it with a hint of a smile on her face. Taking it off delicately, she whispered, "He loves me…"

Once the last petal floated to the ground, she looked up to see Ron giving her a lopsided grin in front of her. Her heart almost leaped out of her mouth.

"Erm… good morning Ron," she muttered awkwardly.

"G'morning Hermione," Ron said, flopping down on the grass in front of her. "Erm, about yesterday… I'm really sorry about yelling at you in Charms."

"It's okay," Hermione said, stroking Crookshanks. "Though I don't understand why you're getting yourself so worked up over Neville…"

"And thanks for… y'know… sticking up for me in Potions," Ron said quickly, not wanting to dwell on his suspicions about Neville.

Hermione smiled, a pink tinge appearing in her cheeks. "No problem. You would've done the same for me." She paused, and studied Ron. "I mean… you would've, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would!" Ron said indignantly. "In fact, I've already done that!"

_FLASHBACK  
_"Please sir," Hermione said, her hand up in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf—"

However, Snape didn't seem impressed. "That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Ms. Granger," he said coolly. "Five points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Ron watched angrily as Hermione went red and stared at the floor, her eyes beginning to water. Filled with anger, he yelled, "You asked a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"  
_END FLASHBACK_

Hermione grinned fondly. "Oh that's right," she said. "I forgot all about that."

Laughing at the way Ron's mouth dropped open, she touched his shoulder. "I'm just kidding. I was always thankful for that, you know."

Ron wanted very much to say something, but was rendered speechless; Hermione's comforting hand on his shoulder was so warm—it felt like a part of him. He felt extremely disappointed when she drew it away.

"But why were you looking for me?" Hermione said in puzzlement. "I'm sure that wasn't the only reason."

"Well, that was part of the reason," Ron admitted, as Hermione made a reluctant grin, "but, erm, our detention… tonight…"

Hermione frowned slightly. "Oh right," she said. "When is it?"

"Tonight at six o' clock," Ron answered. "We're going to be chopping firewood for the house-elves on the outskirts of the forest."

Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. "The _forest_?" she said, her voice rising about two octaves. "But—I thought it was out-of-bounds!"

"Not for detentions," Ron said grimly, hating the memory of Snape. "Remember that one detention in first year? It was deep in the Forbidden Forest, remember?"

Hermione shuddered. "Don't remind me," she said, pulling her robes more tightly around her. "Well," she added as an afterthought, "I won't be alone, in any cases."

"Nope," Ron said, giving her another lopsided grin.

Hermione felt her spine tingle slightly.

"But anyway," Ron added, his stomach grumbling, "I'm going to go get some breakfast. Are you going to come in?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked out across the Grounds. "I think I'll come in later," she said finally.

Ron nodded and stood up. Turning around, he called over his shoulder, "And by the way…" he said, trying his best not to betray any hint of emotions, "I'm sure whoever you love loves you back even more." He began to walk away. "Lucky sodding bloke," he added. When he finally looked back, Hermione was staring at the petal-less flower in her hands, but he was too far away to see the blush that was creeping across her face.

-x-

That evening, at five fifty-five, the Godfather Gang was leaning out of the Boys' Dormitory windows, squinting at two figures making their way to Hagrid's hut.

"Aw," Bill gushed, "don't they make quite the pair?"

There were murmurs of agreement from the other windows.

"Come on," Harry said, "why are we just watching them from here? Let's go follow them."

"Not the Invisibility Cloak," Neville whined unhappily.

"Yes the Invisibility Cloak," Harry answered. "Come on, we don't want to lose them."

"Harry," Seamus whined, "why don't we just use Disillusionment Cha—"

"No! Come on!"

-x-

"It's getting cold, isn't it?" Hermione said conversationally, zipping up her jacket.

Ron nodded agreement. "Stupid, slimy git," he said, referring to Snape. "I bet he knew it would be cold tonight, the slimeball…"

"I know," Hermione said, her eyes narrowing. "Maybe some day we can pay that—that—that horrible _thing_ back, count my words… we'll get him eventually."

Slightly taken aback, Ron recovered instantly. "I have a few ideas of what to do," he said, stroking his chin. "Do you happen to know any spells that can make things scream loudly if they get too dirty?"

Hermione was about to reply when the huge figure of Hagrid appeared in front of them.

"Ron!" he beamed, "Hermione! Here for yer detention, are yeh?"

Ron scowled as Hermione said, "Don't remind me."

Hagrid chuckled as he clapped both of them on the back, almost causing them to fly forward about five feet. "Ar, well, 't'won't be too bad I expec'. Since Snape's no' here I'll be th' one watching over yeh. Make sure nothin' gets yeh."

"Snape's not supervising?" Hermione said, not bothering to hide her glee.

"Nope," Ron answered. "Sorry I didn't tell you, I guess I just forgot."

"Well," Hagrid said, bringing two axes out from his hut and handing one each to Ron and Hermione, "there's enough dead wood on the groun'. I'm no' expectin' you ter chop down trees an' frankly I'd rather yeh not. Simple enough, an' if you run inter a spot o' trouble I'm goin' ter be righ' there anyway."

"Thanks Hagrid," Hermione said, feeling a bit more relieved.

"But Snape said he'd be able to know what we've been doing, Hagrid," Ron said. "What'd he mean by that?"

"What, tha' git?" Hagrid said, beginning to laugh. "All 'e meant was me. He reckons now I'm a teacher I won' be as friendly with yer." Ron and Hermione were delighted to hear Hagrid say, "An' even though I know he's on th' good side, he's still a ruddy excuse fer a human bein'."

They walked a little while on in silence.

"Well, here yeh are!" he said in a cheery voice. "See all th' dead wood over there? Try t' chop those up into firewood-type sizes. I'll be gone from time t' time to find some more dead wood for yeh, all righ'?"

Ron and Hermione nodded and began to work.

Not only was it tedious, as Hermione found out, but extremely hard. As the sky began to darken, the temperatures dropped, and soon her fingers were numb, as she wasn't wearing any gloves. After the first hour, her shoulders were beginning to feel sore from the continuous swinging.

Meanwhile, the Godfather Gang was clumped together underneath the cloak, about a stone's throw away from Hagrid. "Look how Ron keeps looking back to check on Hermione," Dean said, with almost a fatherly gleam in his eyes.

"It looks like hard work," Neville said, squinting at the wood on the ground.

"Hopefully something happens," Charlie muttered, watching the two continue to toil. No sooner were the words out of his mouth when Hagrid seemed to study the amount of dead wood still on the ground.

"I'm goin' ter get more wood fer yeh t' chop, all righ'?" he called over to Ron and Hermione. "I'll be righ' back, don' go any deeper inter the woods!"

"Like we'd want to," Ron muttered darkly as soon as Hagrid had retreated into the woods. Hermione laughed and straightened up from her pile, blowing on her hands.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"This is it," Harry whispered excitedly.

Hermione rubbed her hands together distractedly. "Oh, nothing," she said airily.

"Do your hands hurt?"

"Well, not _really_," Hermione said, trying to assure Ron. "They're more cold than anything else though—"

But before she could finish the sentence, Ron had crossed the distance between himself and Hermione and took her hands in his, massaging them.

The Godfather Gang let out a nauseating "Aww!"

Ron released her hand and looked over to where they were, frowning. "Did you hear something?"

The Godfather Gang clamped their mouths shut.

Hermione shook her head slowly. "I think they were just the owls. Owls are naturally nocturnal, even though we keep them awake most of the day, and they like to hunt in the forest a lot. In _Hogwarts: A History_, it says that a flock of owls attacked a centaur, in the early years of the school, and the centaurs lost most of their respect for the humans in it… well, humans _period _ever since."

"You don't think they'll be here, do you?" Ron asked nervously, looking around.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I expect they'll be much deeper from the forest in an effort to get as far away from the school as possible." She winced and began rubbing her hands together. Immediately, Ron took them again and began rubbing them for her.

"It was really cruel of Snape to make us do this," he said, "I'd like to see _him_ do some physical work once in a while…"

"We'll get him back," Hermione said, getting a headstrong look in her eyes. "Just watch, he won't know what hit him…"

Both of them fell silent. Hermione watched Ron massage her hands, feeling herself blush. Assuming that her face was turning pink from the cold, Ron said, "You must be really cold, aren't you?"

"Oh, n-no," Hermione said, "I'm fine, you can… you can stop, I'm quite all right."

"Oh, okay," Ron said, feeling slightly disappointed.

There was a slightly awkward pause.

"Ron, you can let go now."

"Sorry."

There was another pause.

"Hermione, you're not letting go."

Hermione jumped a little as though startled. "Oh, sorry—"

"Here's s'more wood for yeh!" Hagrid came stumping back into the clearing, laden with branches.

Ron and Hermione let go of each other at once and immediately began working again.

_**finite**_

The second flashback is a scene from the third book, _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_, which belongs to J.K. Rowling.


	28. I'll be your last petal

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Twenty Eight: I'll be your last petal**

Fifteen minutes before Ron and Hermione's detention, Harry roughly took Neville's left arm and checked the watch that was on it ("Ow! Ow! Harry, you're twisting my arm!").

Hagrid took a bemused look around, shrugged, and continued humming as he idly watched Ron and Hermione chop firewood.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, gingerly setting Neville's left arm back at his side and patting it, "but I think we'll have to go if we want to be back in the Common Room before those two get back." Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie nodded and tried to scoot away quietly, although they weren't very good at it.

"Ouch! Neville, I think you just ripped my toe off," Charlie said, biting his lip and limping.

Neville stumbled forward a few paces and nearly pulled the cloak from everyone else's heads. "Sorry! Can we switch places then, it's really hard to walk in the middle…" his face shone with the effort of being half-pulled and half-pushed by the rest of the Godfather Gang. "Watch your foot, Harry—AARGH!"

Harry quickly grabbed the scruff of Neville's robes with the agility of a Seeker and pulled him back to prevent him from falling and glanced back to the clearing where the detention was still going on. "Shush! I think they can still hear us!"

Sure enough, back at the clearing, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid had turned around curiously to look for the source of the noise. "Did you hear that?" Ron asked, looking around.

"Yeah," Hermione said doubtfully. "I wonder what that could've been."

"It migh' just be Filch on one of his evenin' strolls," Hagrid said, peering into the darkness. "Git. He's always half-drunk and moanin' on about how Madam Pince'll never give 'im the time o' day…"

Hagrid took one look at the dubious looks on Ron and Hermione's faces and immediately covered his mouth as though hoping that action would cancel out what he just said. "Shouldn'ta said tha'," he muttered, finding the specific pebble on the ground and studying it intently.

"Well, at least now we know why Filch was so keen on paying Snape for some Amortentia," Ron said, trying to conceal a grin. "Who would have thought, the caretaker and the librarian…" he paused for a moment. "That would be slightly disturbing," he said finally. "Can you think of what their children would do when they grew up? They'd probably spend their lives mopping up the school with pages from books."

Hagrid shook his head, chuckling, while Hermione let out a reluctant grin. "You're horrible," she said, "Madam Pince would never let any of her children befoul any of her beloved books by mopping up the floors with them."

The clearing erupted with laughter, and Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid spent the remainder of the detention arguing about Filch and Madam Pince's romance, debating on whether it would work or not.

"Well," Hagrid said finally, swiping at his eyes with his beard, "I'll just nip inside fer a moment an' check the time, all righ'?" Ron and Hermione nodded, as Hagrid lumbered off to his hut.

Still chuckling, Hermione turned to Ron. "I cannot believe we just had a conversation about that," she said.

"Neither can I," Ron said, looking at her with a grin. "I can't believe you joked about your favorite librarian—you of all people!"

"Oh, shut up," Hermione said, although her smile ruined the effect slightly. "You know I didn't mean any disrespect."

Ron stood as tall as he could and looked down his nose at Hermione. "You may not have meant any disrespect," he said, as silkily as he could, "but every word you spoke betrayed some, Ms. Granger."

Hermione laughed, pretended to swing at him with her axe, and winced. "Ouch," she muttered, trying to stretch out her shoulder.

Ron was immediately at her side. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing…" Hermione trailed off. Ron's face was inches from hers, his beautiful blue eyes radiating the most sincere concern she had ever seen. "Really, it's… it's nothing, I'm fine."

Ron looked away and touched her shoulder, noticing Hermione flinch slightly. "You hurt your shoulder, didn't you?"

"I might've just swung the axe wrong a couple of times," Hermione said, with an obviously fake bravado. "Honestly, Ron, I'm fine, I'll just make sure to rest it tonight."

After a long pause, which included Ron giving Hermione a long, strict look, he finally laughed. "And make sure not to write too much when you get back," he said, grinning.

"I won't," Hermione assured him. _Not like that's anything to worry about, as I haven't got my Arithmancy book…_

Ron looked away from Hermione to keep himself from staring when he heard, _Not like that's anything to worry about, as I haven't got my Arithmancy book…_

"What did you say?" he asked, looking up.

"I said I won't," Hermione repeated, setting her axe down beside her pile of finished firewood.

Ron looked at her strangely. "You didn't say anything else after that?"

"No…"

"Ron, Hermione, it's exactly nine, yeh better get inside before yeh die of cold," Hagrid called, stumping back into the clearing. "Did yeh bring anything with yeh? No? Okay. Hermione, what's th' matter with yer arm?"

"She hur—"

"Nothing, it's all right," Hermione said loudly over Ron.

Hagrid shrugged and turned around. "Well, come on now, we better get back t' the castle before yer missed."

-x-

The Godfather Gang collapsed into the armchairs in front of the fire the moment they entered the Common Room, massaging aching limbs and heads. The journey back had been extremely rough: maneuvering around corners and through students, taking detours around Peeves, nearly falling over Mrs. Norris (although the majority didn't seem to mind squashing her, though Harry thought it would be an extremely bad idea), falling face flat whilst attempting to get through the Portrait Hole, and of course, everyone getting hit by Neville as a result of his unusually spectacular clumsiness.

Seamus, occupying a whole couch facedown moaned. "Dean, do I even need to tell you _how_ many times you kicked me in the—"

"It was hard to get around Mrs. Norris!" Dean said irritably. "At least I had enough sense to jump—"

"Where I was right behind you and you—"

"When you nearly tripped over Mrs. Norris and nearly gave us all away…"

"Oy," Harry said sharply, cutting over Dean and Seamus's bickering. "You two fight almost as much as Ron and Hermione."

At this statement, the two pulled disgusted faces and settled deeper into their chairs.

Harry snickered and dug into his pockets for a large piece of old parchment. Finding it, he tapped it with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Harry bent over the Marauder's Map and studied the Grounds. "There they are," he said, following their path with his finger. "Hagrid just left them at the front door, he's returning to his hut."

"Ah, so Ickle Ronniekins is alone with Hermione?" Charlie asked, bounding over to look at the Map. "Aww, even their dots together look cute."

Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and Bill got up to look, and nodded agreement.

"Actually, you're right."

"They do look kinda cute together as dots!"

"I prefer to see them together in person, but you are right…"

"D'you think they're holding hands?"

"Well, one can only hope…"

"What, no!"

Dean looked at Harry strangely. "You don't want them to hold hands? Harry, if you're going to be a part of the Godfather Gang, you have to want for Ron and Hermione to be together in every shape and form."

Harry shook his head and stared at the Map. "No, I mean, Hermione's going back to the library… no, Ron's still going to the Common Room!"

"Merlin, I hope they didn't have a fight," Bill murmured, running his hand through his hair. "That would kill everything we've worked for."

All of a sudden, Harry hastily folded up the Map and stuffed it in his pocket. "Get back in your chairs, he's coming! And remember, he mustn't know that we know he has Hermione's book, all right? Pretend we don't know a thing."

As soon as Neville finally assumed a comfortable position (which he assumed looked casual), the Portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Ron clambered awkwardly inside, looking quite cold and happy. Noticing his friends, he waved. "Snape is an _evil_ git," he said, massaging his arms. "I can't believe he made us do that…"

Ignoring his rant, Dean interrupted. "So… erm… anything happen with… anybody?" he said evasively.

Ron looked confused for a moment. "Erm… no? Snape wasn't supervising, thank Merlin… Hagrid was great, me and Hermione had a good, long conversation on Filch and Madam Pince…"

"Speak of the devil," Seamus cut in, "how is she? Where is she, by the way?"

"Probably in the library as usual, dusting off a few shelves," Ron said, shrugging. "How should I know?"

"Not her, you prat!" Harry roared at Ron, thwapping him with a couch pillow, "Hermione, of course!"

"Oh... library, I suppose," Ron said casually, his eyes shifting. "She said she was looking for—" A look of comprehension suddenly dawned on Ron's face. "She must have been looking for her Arithmancy book!"

"Way to be behind the times, Ron," Bill said, rolling his eyes. "She's just been looking for it ever since the beginning of the year."

"No, see, _I_ have her Arithmancy book."

The Godfather Gang gaped theatrically at Ron. "Wait," Harry said, waving his hands to indicate that he didn't understand. "I thought McLaggen had Hermione's book when you gave it to him?"

"I gave it to _Cornelia_, Harry, there's a difference," Ron said stubbornly. "And if I'dve known Cornelia was McLaggen, I wouldn'tve given him… her… whatever, it, Hermione's book."

"That doesn't explain how you have it again, though," Neville said, struggling to look confused, giving him a very realistic result. "If you gave it to Cornelia, how did McLaggen get it? And why do you have it now?"

"Cornelia _was_ McLaggen, Neville," Ron said impatiently.

"But you just said there was a difference—"

"Nevermind," Harry said quickly, "but the point is, how exactly did you get Hermione's Arithmancy book back?"

"Well," Ron began, "it was that day Hermione got unattached from McLaggen. I, well… I kinda thought Neville and her hooked up…" here, he shrugged apologetically to Neville, "so I went to the library because I knew you guys wouldn't think of looking for me there. When I sat down her Arithmancy book was under my feet."

While Ron looked down at his trainers, Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie gave each other sly smiles.

"Erm, Ron," Charlie said, breaking the silence, "are you going to give Hermione the book anytime soon?"

"I'd like to," Ron said, shrugging, "but she might think I stole it."

Suddenly, Harry lit his wand and put it on top of his head.

Fearing for his friend's sanity, Ron asked, "Erm, mate? What are you doing?"

"I am indicating an idea," Harry said, nodding sagely.

"And… what's your idea?" Dean asked, looking at Harry as though he were mad.

"We can use Dobby!"

"Dobby?" Bill and Charlie looked puzzled. "Who's that?"

"Mad house-elf," Ron said, dropping his voice. "Not as mad as Kreacher, mind, but still slightly balmy. You'll see. But how can we use Dobby?"

"We can just ask Dobby to give Hermione back the book for you!" Harry said, spreading his arms out. "Ron, go get her book… erm… I'll call Dobby, I hope he answers."

Ron nodded and went up to the Dormitories to get Hermione's book. Since he had last looked at it, it had gone back to looking like an innocent, Arithmancy textbook. Just as he picked it up, he heard a sound like a Filibuster Firework and Bill giving a strangled cry. Rushing over to the stairs, he looked over the banister, and choked back a laugh at the sight that beheld him: Dobby had apparently appeared right on top of Bill.

"Dobby is very sorry, sir," Dobby squeaked over and over, bowing repeatedly to Bill, who he was still on top of.

"Erm," Bill said, trying to get over his initial surprise, "hullo, Dobby—d'you mind getting off of me? Thanks," he said, as Dobby clambered off.

"Harry Potter called Dobby?" the house-elf said, beaming up at Harry with round, eager eyes. "What is it sir requires? Sir freed Dobby and Dobby will do anything!"

"Thanks, Dobby, it was nothing," Harry said, kneeling down to get level with Dobby's head. "But yeah, I did call you—listen, d'you mind doing something for me?"

"Anything, Harry Potter sir, anything!"

Ron came back downstairs and handed Hermione's Arithmancy book to Dobby.

"_Wheezy_!" Dobby squeaked excitedly, indicating the sweater he was wearing. It was the same, maroon sweater Ron had given him in his fourth year. "Dobby is thankful for the sweater, I wears it always!"

"No problem," Ron said, grinning, "but what Harry wants you to do is, you remember who Hermione is, don't you?"

"Of course Dobby does, sir!" Dobby said, nodding empathetically. "She is always giving me advice about Winky—" at this, he covered his mouth, and everybody present could swear they saw the tiny house-elf blush. Soon afterward, he uncovered his mouth and continued, a little fidgety, "Miss is always helping Dobby, I remembers who she is!"

"Great," Ron said, trying to conceal a grin. "D'you mind finding her and giving this to her for me? And—make sure you don't tell her it was from me, just give it to her and come back, all right?"

"No trouble at all sir!" Dobby said excitedly, taking the book from Ron. "Dobby will do it right now!"

And with a crack, Dobby disappeared.

"Weird little chap," Charlie said, giving the place Dobby had disappeared from an amused look.

"I knew about Dobby, but I'd never actually talked to him before," Seamus said, laughing. "And I certainly never knew house-elves could fancy each other! Winky… wasn't that… Crouch's elf?"

"Yep," Harry said, "and trust me, I didn't know Dobby fancied her either."

The Godfather Gang and Ron began to laugh.

-x-

After Ron had left for the Common Room, Hermione went into the library, which was empty save for Madam Pince, who was dusting off yet another shelf (labeled Si – So) with an abnormally large feather duster. Even though the library wasn't closed, she didn't want to be on Madam Pince's bad side, and creeped in silently, going straight for the tables. Getting down on the floor, she immediately began searching for her Arithmancy book, certain that McLaggen had left it here somewhere. Where in hell could it have gone? She knew some books had legs, but she was fairly certain, after owning the book for around three years, that her Arithmancy book did not have legs to scuttle away on. Unfortunately, Madam Pince had finished her shelf and turned to another, spotting Hermione on the floor.

"Ms. Granger, what are you doing?"

"Oh, erm…" Hermione muttered awkwardly, picking herself up off of the floor and dusting her robes off, "I dropped…" she fished in her pockets for something and pulled out the first thing she found, which was a pack of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. "I dropped a piece of gum," she said meekly. "But I wasn't using it!" she said hurriedly as Madam Pince's nose flared ominously. "It was wrapped, and it just dropped out of my pocket!"

"What are you doing here so late?" the librarian asked accusatorily, staring Hermione down. "If I were to look under that table, I wouldn't find any pieces of gum stuck under there?"

"No ma'am," Hermione said, amazed at Madam Pince's ability to jump to conclusions so easily.

"Well, there better not be." Madam Pince's voice suddenly softened. "I wouldn't want to give Argus a hard time…"

Hermione stared at Madam Pince and tried not to laugh. It appeared as though Filch had already given her the potion. Struck with a thought, and wanting to search the library alone, Hermione put on an innocent face. "No, we wouldn't want to," she said, shaking her head. "Maybe you'd like to go see him, Madam Pince?"

Madam Pince seemed to think it over for a moment, swaying on the spot. "Yes, yes I would," she said, dazedly. Sneezing, she set her feather duster down. "Yes, I think I will go visit Argus. Don't do anything horrible to the library now, do you hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you," Hermione said, giving her a sweet smile. "Have a nice time!"

As soon as Madam Pince skipped (as best as she could as she was in an overlong skirt) from the library, Hermione sighed and dropped to her knees, searching under a different table.

_CRACK_!

Startled, Hermione jumped up—and hit her head underneath the table. "Bugger," she swore quietly. Backing out from under the table, she looked around. "Who's there?"

She felt something tug on her robes and looked down. "Oh, hello Dobby," she said kindly. "How are you? Taking a break?"

"Not exactly, miss," Dobby squeaked. "Dobby just wanted to give you this, miss, and thank you for helping Dobby with his—" here, he dropped his voice to a whisper—"problems. Dobby is ever grateful to you!" At this, Dobby shoved a book into her hands. "Good-bye miss! Dobby will see you again soon I hopes!" And with another deafening crack, Dobby Disapparated from the room.

Taken aback by his sudden disappearance, Hermione blinked for a few moments before looking down at what she had in her hands.

It was her Arithmancy book.

-x-

_CRACK_!

Dobby appeared back into the Gryffindor Common Room, careful to avoid the Godfather Gang's chests. "Dobby did it, sir!" he said, looking at Ron. "Miss was surprised sir, but in a good way! Is there anything else sirs want Dobby to do?"

Ron sighed in relief and patted Dobby on the shoulder. "No, you did great Dobby, thanks. Er… you better go and rest."

Dobby nodded. "Dobby will do that, sir! Thank you!"

And with another crack, Dobby disappeared.

"Well," Harry said in the silence that followed, "I think it's best if we go up to the Dormitories now."

"What, now?" Ron said, looking incredulously at Harry. "But—"

"Harry's right, Ron," Bill said suddenly. "I think it's time all of us tell you something. Hang on—I can feel Ginny coming."

Harry stood up a little straighter in his seat. "How can you feel Ginny coming?"

"Weasley Radar," Bill said, and Bill, Charlie, and Ron simultaneously tapped the sides of their heads in what they clearly imagined as an impressive way.

"Eh, Bill?"

"Eh, Charlie!"

"Eh, Ron!" Ron said triumphantly, striking a heroic pose.

Neville frowned and raised an eyebrow. "…Right," he said.

At that moment, footsteps on the stairs leading from the Girls' Dormitories caused all of them to look over and see Ginny Weasley coming down, securing her plaid bathrobe. "Ginny!" Bill and Charlie immediately headed straight for her and hooked her to them by the elbows, Bill on Ginny's left, Charlie on her right. "We have a job for you…"

-x-

A few minutes later, the Godfather Gang and Ron were in the Dormitories, while Ginny sat in the Common Room, waiting for Hermione to come back.

"Well, what is it?" Ron asked, sitting down on his bed, looking nervously at Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie, who were eyeing him not unlike the way hawks eye their prey.

"It's time," Charlie uttered to the room at large.

The remainder of the Godfather Gang nodded solemnly.

"Time for what?" Ron said, feeling more nervous. Taking a pillow from behind him, he hugged it, his eyes wide.

"Ron, stop with the dramatics," Charlie snapped, grabbing the pillow from Ron and flinging it back on the bed.

"_Me_?" Ron said disbelievingly, "it's you being all dramatic—"

Charlie waved it aside. "Yes, yes, the point is, well…"

"Have you ever heard Hermione's voice inside your head?" Bill asked.

Ron paused a moment. "Yeah. Yeah I have… I told you about it, but you guys just said I was dreaming… I thought I'd gone mad…"

"Well, we do think you're kind of insane," Harry admitted, grinning as he dodged a pillow that Ron threw his way, "but you were right. Hermione's voice _was_ in your head. It really was her."

Ron gaped at them. "So, it really was Hermione?"

"We only just said that, Ron," Dean said, rolling his eyes. He, too, dodged a pillow thrown by Ron.

Ron looked thoughtfully at his feet. "Does Hermione know about this?" he asked them.

"Not yet," Bill said, "but Ginny does, and she's going to tell Hermione everything when she comes in later. Any objections?"

Temporarily struck dumb now, Ron could only shake his head in disbelief. So it really was Hermione's voice that had been soothing him when he was angry, and coaching him through Potions… he really wasn't mad after all…

"And… Ron?" Neville said tentatively. "Hermione doesn't like me, you know… and I don't fancy her either. So don't think that… okay?"

"Yeah," Seamus said, "because we all know who Neville really fancies." Neville threw a pillow at Seamus, which missed him by a mile, but scattered quite a few magazines that were under his pillows all over the Dormitory Room. Picking one up, Seamus read out the heading. "_The Quibbler_," he read, "do I need to say more?" he dodged another pillow and several more magazines, laughing.

"The point is, brother," Bill said, walking over and sitting beside Ron, "you have to move it or lose it. We all know your true feelings, and it's really no use hiding it."

Charlie, too, walked over to Ron and sat on his other side, throwing an arm around him. "Move it or lose it before Hermione moves on, mate. She doesn't like McLaggen or Neville, and all of us know who she really does love. It doesn't take a genius to figure out who."

"I know you've admitted it to us," Harry said, "about you liking Hermione, but you've still been denying it. Not only to her and everyone else, but to yourself. You're going to have to tell her sooner or later…"

"And all of us pick sooner!" Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie said simultaneously.

"But," Ron tried.

"Tomorrow," Harry insisted. "We need an early retirement."

-x-

Ginny had not been waiting in the Common Room for long when the Portrait of the Fat Lady swung open. Not even needing to turn around, Ginny said, "Evening, Hermione."

"Evening, Ginny," Hermione answered, setting her Arithmancy book down on an end table and pulling off her extra jackets. "Do I even need to say how evil a git Snape is?"

Ginny grinned. "Nope. How was detention, anyway?" Her eyes flickered towards Hermione's Arithmancy book on the table. "I see you have your book back, finally."

"Yes, finally," Hermione said, gratefully sinking down next to Ginny on the couch. "But you'll never guess who gave it back to me."

"Try me."

"All right," Hermione said, "Dobby." she laughed at the look on Ginny's face. "Have you ever met him?"

"Briefly," Ginny admitted, "once, when I went with Fred and George to raid the kitchens. Strange little bloke, what did he do?"

"He just handed it to me, thanked me for a few things, and disappeared. That's it. I wonder why he had it…"

Ginny stroked her chin. "Actually, Hermione, I don't think _he_ had it… I think someone else found it, and was too afraid to give it back to you because, I might be going out on a limb here, but maybe they thought you'd think they stole it? And they wouldn't have wanted you to get mad at them."

Hermione bent her knees and hugged them close to her, curling up deep in the crook of the couch. "I wouldn't have been angry," she said after a while. "I just wanted my book back, basically. Why? Who do you think had my book?"

"I have my suspicions," Ginny answered vaguely, swinging her long, red hair behind her. "But what I really wanted to talk to you about was my dear brother."

Hermione looked at Ginny blankly. "Which one?"

Ginny looked at Hermione disbelievingly. "Honestly! What do you mean, which one? _Ron_ of course!"

At her words, Hermione blushed a deep scarlet, causing Ginny to giggle. "Sorry, Hermione," she said after she controlled her laughter, "you're a brilliant witch, but when it comes to you and Ron you'd probably get a T."

Hermione, her face still red, looked down at the floor. "What do you mean?"

"'T' for Troll...?"

"No! I mean—"

Ginny laughed. "I know what you mean," she said. Then, leaning back on the couch resignedly, she sighed in exasperation. "You're clever, Hermione, so you should figure it out—face it, my dear friend of mine, you love my brother and you're just hurting yourself by denying it."

"I d-don't—"

"Look at the way you're blushing right now! And have you ever noticed how worked up Ron gets if you ever mention the word Krum? Or McLaggen? Or even Neville?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, maybe they've done stuff to him that we don't know about," she said lamely.

Ginny exhaled, and looked to the ceiling as though searching for inspiration. "It's his defense mechanism, and you're doubting yourself again. We all know what's going on between you two, and it would really be a relief to everybody if you two finally understood what was going on. You love him and you know it, but you're doubting yourself and denying the fact that you do. Hermione—you're gonna have to move it or lose it when Ron finally moves on, although, between you and me, that's not going to happen any time soon from… ever."

Hermione dragged a hand through her hair indesicively. "But what if you're wrong?"

"Have I ever been wrong concerning my brother?" Ginny asked, arching a fiery red eyebrow.

"Well… not yet," Hermione said.

"You're unbelievable," Ginny laughed, throwing a couch pillow at her. "But… while we're on the subject…" her voice trailed off.

Hermione looked at Ginny nervously. "What?"

"Well," Ginny said, carefully, "have you… have you ever heard Ron's voice inside of your head? As though you heard his thoughts?"

"I told Harry about it, but he said that I was just tired from lack of sleep… and Neville said I was just dreaming."

"But, have you?" Ginny persisted.

Hermione inclined her head. "Yes," she said finally. "For a while, I thought I was going mad myself… I kept hearing him… there was one night where I talked to him, and told him that I—" she broke off and covered her mouth, her eyes wide. Ginny merely grinned.

_Mission accomplished_, she thought to herself.

-x-

The next day, Ron was awakened as the result of six pairs of pillows hitting him squarely in the face, the curtains of his four-poster bed roughly ripped back, the sunshine on his eyelids hitting him like a rubber clapper. "Good morning, sunshine!" six voices crooned at him.

Ron groaned and pulled the covers back over his face, which were almost immediately pulled off of him. "Today's the day!" Dean sang, waving the blanket about like a banner. "The sun is shining, the room is clean, and you are telling Hermione you love her today!"

Harry looked at Dean oddly. "Is that line from somewhere…?" he asked.

"All the more reason to stay in bed," Ron muttered into his pillow.

Neville gasped as everybody turned to look at him. "The room _is_ clean!" Neville said, clapping his hands to the side of his face.

Everybody gave him a weird look before turning back to Ron. "Come _on_, Ron, the sooner you do it the better you'll feel!" Seamus pleaded.

Ron didn't move.

Bill looked at Charlie. "There's nothing for it," he said. The two brothers nodded.

"This is how the Weasleys get each other out of bed," Charlie explained. He and Bill pointed their wands at Ron. "_Attollo_!" A jet of white light hit Ron, and he flew out of the bed and landed with a thud on the ground beside it.

Rubbing his eyes, Ron got up. "There was no need to get me up so violently," he said sulkily to his brothers.

"Yes there was," Bill and Charlie said, nodding.

"Get dressed," Harry said, throwing Ron his robes, "you promised you'd tell Hermione today."

"But—"

"Get dressed!" The Godfather Gang roared at Ron.

-x-

A few moments later, Ron was being hauled off to the Great Hall, the Godfather Gang surrounding him at all angles. "I can't do it right now," Ron insisted, "I'm not ready!"

"Of course you're ready," Dean said, pulling Ron along by the left sleeve, "you've always been ready. Now don't slouch, and pick up your feet!"

"No, I mean, I thought about this last night…"

Bill tutted and continued pushing him from behind. "No second thoughts, little brother, keep walking."

"I _mean_," Ron said loudly, trying to prevent any more interruptions, "I still want to give her something."

"You already gave her the book, remember?" Seamus said, tugging Ron's left sleeve.

"Not the book," Ron said in exasperation. "You'll—you'll see. I just can't tell her right now, I'll tell her… later."

"Later today, or later never?" Neville asked.

"Later today," Ron assured them. Immediately, everybody let go of Ron.

"You had better be telling the truth Ron," Harry said, peering at Ron, "because you've kept everyone waiting long enough. Hermione's going to find out today whether you like it or not, because if you're not telling her, we're going to tell her for you."

"Okay, okay!" Ron said, holding up placating arms. "Just give me until dinner. Okay?"

"Dinner?" Charlie said, pulling a face. "Why not lu—"

"Dinner, or nothing," Ron said, lowering his eyebrows. "I need until dinner, all right?"

The Godfather Gang and Ron had already sat down and began to eat breakfast when Hermione and Ginny entered the Great Hall. However, when Hermione smiled at Ron, Ron determinedly avoided her eyes, playing with his food.

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked Ginny confusedly.

"No idea," Ginny admitted, giving her brother a 'What are you doing?' look.

"Yeah, what was that all about?" Bill whispered to Ron, noticing Hermione's bewildered and slightly hurt look. "Not even a smile…?"

"Later," Ron insisted thickly, through a mouthful of oatmeal, "later."

-x-

Ron's only free period was after lunch, during which Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie had pestered him to find out if he was ready to tell her yet, which resulted in his customary "Later." It had been hard work enough to get out of the Common Room alone, as they had wanted to go with him just incase he told Hermione without them ("She's in Ancient Runes, you bloody wankers! I just want to take a walk… and don't spy on me!") Finally relishing in the fact that he was on his own, he returned to the tree that he had found Hermione under yesterday, and found that all of the petals she had left there had already bloomed into new flowers. He looked over each flower, and, finding the right one, he swiftly pocketed it, crossed his fingers, and hoped for the best.

When he entered the Common Room, he found the Godfather Gang in their favorite seats in front of the fireplace, looking as innocent as a bottle of poison with a smiley face painted on it. "I told you guys not to spy on me," he said, sitting on the couch beside Neville and Dean.

"Of course we weren't spying on you," Seamus said, a bit too quickly. "We were just… sitting."

"Right," said Ron, "just like 'ya mon'."

"Ya mon!" Dean said, hoping that it would make Ron forget about them spying on him through the windows. Luckily enough, it did, and gave Harry enough time to change the subject.

"So… are you ready?" Harry asked.

"Ya mo—I mean, yeah," Ron said, nodding, a renewed look of nervousness on his face.

Noticing it, Bill grinned. "Nothing to worry about, brother," he said. "Nothing beats the Weasley charm. What are you so scared about?"

Ron muttered something.

"What was that?" Dean asked, cupping his ear. "We didn't quite catch that."

"Rejection," Ron muttered quickly.

Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie hit themselves on the forehead. "You honestly still think Hermione's going to reject you after what we just told you?" Seamus asked incredulously. "You must be bonkers, mate. You're going to do fine, and you're going to do it, right?"

Ron took some time before finally nodding. "Right," he said.

In the classes that followed his free period, Ron was fidgety and prone to making mistakes, as he was too concerned on the task that he was set on doing later that evening. "You're going to be fine, Ron," Harry kept assuring him in History of Magic, as Ron's quill kept trembling, resulting in spraying the people in the row in front of them with ink, "just relax before you flood this classroom in ink."

Right before dinner, Ron nervously fingered the flower inside his robes and ruffled his hair. He, Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie were standing right outside the Great Hall. Hermione and Ginny were already inside, and Ron's heart was pounding at what seemed like two hundred beats a second.

"Ron, we can't just stand out here all day," Dean said impatiently. And with that, he pushed Ron inside. It seemed as though he was on a broomstick on Autoflyer—he immediately found Hermione and stopped behind her, fidgeting, his heart threatening to jump straight out from his chest. Ginny, who had been talking to Hermione, coughed and inclined her head towards Ron. Hermione turned around. Ron's heart beat a bit faster.

"Oh, hello Ron," she said. "I haven't seen you all day, where were you?"

"Erm," Ron muttered, his mouth beginning to feel dry, "erm… come with me, would you?"

Hermione gave Ginny a confused look and got up hesitantly. "Where are we going?"

"Well, we're not leaving the Great Hall, if that's what you're thinking."

Hermione followed Ron to the very front of the Great Hall. "Ron, what are you—"

The Great Hall had suddenly quieted down and stared at Ron and Hermione; even the teachers stopped eating and looked on in interest. Professor McGonagall was positively beaming.

To Ron, the rest of the Great Hall had melted away, and he saw only Hermione. His heart calming down, he reached into his robes and pulled out the flower he had picked earlier. Handing it to her, he thought, _Find out if he loves you_. Hermione nodded, and, with trembling fingers, took the flower. "I'll be your last petal," Ron said quietly, and Hermione began to pull the petals off, one by one.

"He loves me, he loves me not," she said, the petals dropping gracefully by her feet.

The Godfather Gang, having front row seats, hugged each other, sobbing.

"Ronniekins is growing up!" Bill sobbed into Seamus's shoulder.

"Can you feel the love tonight?" Harry sang, patting Neville heartily on the back, which resulted in Neville nearly choking on the soup he was drinking. Looking up at the staff table, Harry could have sworn he saw Dumbledore pull his plate to him eagerly and say, "Dinner and a show—what a treat!" and toasted his glass with Professor McGonagall.

"He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me," Hermione continued, pulling off the petals.

The Great Hall waited with bated breath.

When Hermione reached the last petal, she looked at it sadly, and plucked it off. "He loves me not," she whispered, and she watched the petal float sadly to the floor.

Before it hit the tile, however, Ron said, "He loves you," and pulled Hermione towards him.

He kissed her.

Hermione, shocked at first, was too stunned to respond. Then she closed her eyes and leaned into Ron, snaking her arms around his neck, kissing him gently back. The warmth that they had wanted and needed from each other for so long was finally theirs to share. Ron's urgency made her shudder pleasantly, and she hugged Ron closer to her, knowing that this was the person she was meant to be with, and who she'd always be with, forever. His arms were her protection, and hers would protect him from anything and everything, as best as she could.

After what seemed like years, they finally broke apart, and stared into each other's eyes.

"I said I'd be your last petal, didn't I?" Ron whispered.

Hermione nodded soundlessly, and smiled.

"I love you," Ron said, hugging her small frame to his. "I don't know what took me so long."

"I love you too," Hermione said, sighing happily.

After a few moments, both of them noticed that the Great Hall had erupted into cheers and applause. The Godfather Gang had led the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw tables into a standing ovation, as was the Staff Table. However, Snape was standing for an entirely different reason.

"Weasley! Granger! What have I told you about public displays of affection?" he yelled, over the applause. "Fifty points—"

"—will be awarded to Gryffindor!" McGonagall interrupted, applauding. Leaning over to Dumbledore, she whispered, "It took those two long enough, didn't it?"

Dumbledore nodded assent. "Allow me to say it reminds me very much of what happened to Lily and James Potter," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Why, you're right!" McGonagall said, watching Ron and Hermione smile embarrassedly to the crowd. "This is almost exactly what happened then… funny how things come back to you, isn't it?"

"Yes, and funny how things can happen," Dumbledore said, lifting his glass slightly. "The most unexpected can always occur, and here at Hogwarts, the unexpected seem to occur the most often."

Back at the Gryffindor table, Bill and Charlie were howling. "Ronniekins has a _girlfriend_!" Charlie cried, mopping his eyes with the tablecloth.

"I'm going to be a _godfather_!" Neville yelled triumphantly.

"Hush, Neville, not yet," Harry said. "And besides, we're the Godfather Gang, remember? All of us are going to be godfathers!"

"But I'm going to be the first one," Neville persisted, "I asked first."

Bill and Charlie rolled their eyes. "Whatever," they said, grinning.

Ignoring the din in the Great Hall, Ron offered his hand to Hermione and jerked his head to the door. "Want to go for a walk?"

Hermione smiled and took his hand, walking down the center aisle of the Great Hall not unlike a bride and a groom after a wedding.

Once they were on the Grounds, Ron laughed. "Can you believe this all started with an Arithmancy book?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all. Thanks for returning it to me, by the way," she said, smiling.

Ron's eyes widened. "How'd you know it was me?" he asked.

Hermione tapped the side of her head. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said, "I know everything."

"Then how come you didn't know I loved you?" Ron asked, a teasing grin on his face.

Hermione grinned and hugged Ron. "Well, I know that now, don't I?" she said quietly.

"You sure do," Ron said, hugging her close to him. "And I'm glad to know you still wear the perfume I gave you a few years ago."

"I wear it everyday," Hermione answered.

Ron gave her a lopsided grin, which made Hermione feel a bit weak at the knees. "But just in case you forget," he said, "I think I'll remind you."

"What?" Hermione asked, pretending to look puzzled.

"I love you."

And with that, he kissed her again, a symbol that their love was not going to be interrupted or destroyed, by anything, or anyone.

Except for maybe…

"Ouch! Neville!"

Ron and Hermione broke apart and looked around wildly, just in time to see Neville seemingly fly out from thin air, and land with a deafening crash into the lake, followed by Harry and Bill.

Hermione smiled and pulled Ron back to her, capturing him in a kiss again. Some things never change.

_**finite incantatem.**_


	29. Soul mates, and, you reap what you sow

**Arithmancy**

by: Faithful Wheezy

This chapter is dedicated to **Darkwing731**, my good friend and 200th reviewer.

Author's Note: I've gotten complaints about how I've made Bill and Charlie too much like Fred and George, and to them, I say: 1) I'm the author here, so I am in charge of how I want my characters to be and, 2) in this _Harry Potter _universe, Bill and Charlie were the original pranksters—Fred and George followed in their footsteps and starting acting like them by imitating the way they completed each other's sentences, and so on.

Now please, enjoy the final chapter of Arithmancy!

Disclaimer: See Chapter One.

**Epilogue Twenty Nine: Soul mates, and, you reap what you sow**

Bill waded out of the lake sullenly, adjusting his dragon fang earring. "Merlin, Neville, can't you control those feet of your—AARGH!" Bill flew forward as Dean, Seamus, and Charlie hurriedly threw the cloak back over him. "What was that for, Harry?" Bill asked, looking at Harry as he too threw the cloak over himself.

"They'll see us," Harry hissed. "You never know what might hap—"

"I LOVE HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!" They heard Ron yell, as Hermione laughed.

"Er," Dean said, "the only thing they probably see is each other."

"That was still no reason to tackle me," Bill said sulkily as he rubbed his back, hitting Charlie multiple times with his elbow in the process. "Oh, sorry, brother."

Charlie doubled over, holding his stomach. "Don't mention it," he choked out.

Harry beckoned at the rest, ignoring Charlie's plight. "Come on," he said, "they're moving across the Grounds." Just as the Godfather Gang was taking their first awkward steps, they were interrupted by—

"_Mgrmgphh_—elp meeee—can't_phmrglub_—sw_glurble_immmm—!"

Harry looked at the lake, turned back around, did a double-take, and stopped in his tracks. "_Bugger_." Dean, Seamus, Neville, Bill, and Charlie all walked into him and fell flat on the ground. "Neville's still in the lake," Harry said. "And, er, I don't think he can swim…"

"_Mph_! 'elp meeee!"

With simultaneously rolling eyes, the Godfather Gang held the Invisibility Cloak more securely around themselves and struggled back to the bank of the lake.

"Darn you, Neville…"

-x-

Ron pulled Hermione closer to him, smiling happily. He was finally with the smartest, most beautiful girl in the world, and he loved her. What was more, he was finally able to show it.

"I LOVE HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!" he yelled to the Grounds, throwing up both of his arms in triumph.

Hermione blushed and pulled him back to her. "Be quiet, we might get in trouble again," she said severely, although pleased. "We might be all right with Professor McGonagall, but with Snape—"

"Worried we'll get another detention, do you?" Ron said impishly, raising an eyebrow. "I dunno about you, but personally I wouldn't mind…"

"Yes, well, neither would I," Hermione said quickly, "but, you know, we _are_ prefects, and—"

Ron gave an exaggerated gasp and covered his mouth in mock-horror. "You wouldn't actually mind getting a detention?" he asked. "You, the perfect little—"

Hermione mustered up her evilest glare and shot it towards her boyfriend. "Yes, I wouldn't mind getting detention… just as long as it isn't one that involves an axe. Because I'd be hauled off to Azkaban for using it on you, unless you stop teasing me this instant."

"Ah, but I know how to stop you," Ron said simply.

"Oh really?" Hermione asked, "How would you manage to do that?"

"Like this."

And once more, Ron leaned in and kissed Hermione. The night was cloudless and perfect, and they were reveling in the closeness of each other, when—

"AUGHH! GET _AWAY_ FROM ME! WAIT UNTIL MY FATHER HEARS ABOUT THIS, THIS IS AGAINST—THIS IS AGAINST—THE LAWS OF NATURE!"

With an annoyed sigh, Ron and Hermione pulled away from each other reluctantly and looked around yet again—however, their search yielded rather amusing results: Draco Malfoy was streaking out of the castle with the agility of a ferret, with Cormac McLaggen trailing by a mere pace or two.

"Draco, I love you!" he yelled, willing his legs to go faster.

"GET _AWAY_, YOU IDIOT GRYFFINDOR!"

"I will never leave you, Drakey!"

Malfoy looked revolted. "Do not _ever_ call me by Pansy's nickname for me, you understand?" He bellowed at McLaggen.

Ron looked at Hermione, struggling to keep the corners of his mouth down. "It looks like he's still operating on the Euphoric Jinx, doesn't it?" he said thoughtfully, watching Malfoy feverishly climb up a tree. "I don't understand why you used a Euphoric Jinx on him though, of all things… why'd you do it?"

"Well," Hermione said slowly, beginning to look embarrassed, "I just learned it. And it's pretty complex, and I wanted to see if, well… well it's a good thing I did!" she finished resolutely. "He wouldn't have taken the Amortentia if he was sane, would he? I mean, if he was sane, he would've ripped the bag right off my head."

"Well, that's true," Ron said, taking Hermione's hand and leading her around the lake, choosing to ignore wet footprints and what looked like the imprint of someone's rear end imbedded in the sandy bank. "But I still didn't enjoy knowing you two had to share his bloody bed."

_FLASHBACK  
_McLaggen groaned and sat up abruptly, half causing Hermione's shoulders to rise with the motion. "Grnnn… hn?" he murmured sleepily, his head nodding dangerously.

"Cormac! _Cormac!_ Wake up!" Hermione began to shake his shoulders. "We best get out, before…"

But the curtains on McLaggen's four-poster bed were pulled apart, and Hermione found herself facing three Seventh Year Boys, the names she did not know, her hands still on McLaggen's shoulders.

"Bug_ger,_" she exclaimed irately.  
_END FLASHBACK_

Hermione shuddered. "Please don't remind me," she said. "Under normal circumstances, I would never share a bed with him, nor would I want to."

"How about me?" Ron said jokingly.

Moments later, Ron was rubbing his rather pink cheek, while Hermione stared at him, her hands on her hips. "Too early to joke about stuff like that?" he asked sheepishly.

"Quite," Hermione affirmed.

"But still," Ron carried on valiantly, "I'm glad to know you wouldn't share a bed with him."

"Good," Hermione said, taking his hand again. "Because there's only one guy in my heart, and that guy is _definitely_ not him."

Ron smiled and held her hand more securely in his.

-x-

When the couple finally reached the Fat Lady, who was surveying them with a hint of a smile on her oil-paint based lips, they could hear yells and raucous cheering from inside. Hermione looked at Ron nervously. "What do you think happened?" she asked. "I can't imagine having to quiet that lot down, I don't think they'd even see us."

"Did we win a Quidditch game or something without us knowing?" Ron asked the Fat Lady.

"You'll see," said the portrait simply. "Password?"

"_Fidelis amor_," Hermione said.

The Fat Lady smiled and swung open slowly. "That you have," she said, waving them away and dabbing inconspicuously at her eyes with a mauve handkerchief. "That you have."

Ron looked dubiously at the back of the Fat Lady's portrait. "Er… what?"

But Hermione's answer was drowned out by what seemed to be a tidal wave of noise; willing hands pulled the couple into the Common Room, and the portrait shut as several voices yelled, "Finally!"

The Fat Lady chuckled and stowed her handkerchief away just as Sir Cadogan, whose Portrait had been recently set next to hers, strolled into her frame.

"The lass and lad are finally together, aye?" He asked.

"Finally," The Fat Lady smiled.

-x-

Amidst all the partying Gryffindors, the rather wet, disgruntled, and tired looking Bill managed to reach Ron and Hermione (throwing out a few humbled comments such as, "We got those two together, you know!" "Yes, yes, we did it… not easy work, but it had to be done…" into the crowd). "Ron, Hermione," Bill panted, "we still have an explanation to owe you."

"An explanation? Oh—thanks," Ron said to a little Third Year, who pressed a Firewhisky in his hands. "What sort of explanation?" he asked bemusedly, returning his attention to Bill, ignoring Hermione tutting at the drink in his hands ("Honestly, Ron, it's a _school night_!").

"Here, come over here," Charlie said, who seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere behind them. "We found a spot in the back of the Common Room under the stairs, we just need a few minutes."

Shrugging, Ron and Hermione followed Bill and Charlie to a space underneath the staircases, where the remaining members of the Godfather Gang and Ginny were, casually casting Heating Charms on a sopping wet Neville at intervals, whose backside appeared to be covered in sand.

"Ron, Hermione," Bill began seriously, "remember when we told you that you were hearing each other's thoughts for real?"

"Yeah…" Ron said slowly, as Hermione nodded.

"What about it?" she asked apprehensively. "It's not dangerous, is it?"

Charlie laughed. "We're not Fred and George, although they do kind of take after us, don't you think? The thing that sets Bill and me apart from those twins is we're relatively safe people."

"Except for Plan S, honestly, Charlie…"

"Well, I was beginning to think those two would never separate, okay?"

"Yes, well," Ron interrupted, ruffling his hair in confusion, "what about the Mind Sharing thing? What about it?"

Bill was silent for a moment, evidently choosing what he was going to say. "You two were lucky that it worked at all," he said finally, as Charlie nodded solemnly beside him. "First of all, let me tell you that you don't have to hear each other's thoughts forever. That might kind of take the mystery out it all, wouldn't it? Anyway, you can control that."

"Good," Hermione laughed, as Ron rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I don't know if we've told you, but to do this piece of magic, we took a small smidgen of each of your souls and put it in each other."

"So—we're like Horcruxes of each other?" Ron asked, horrified.

"You said it wasn't dangerous!" Hermione said, her voice rising an octave.

Charlie, alarmed, waved his hands wildly in assurance. "No, no—we've heard about those filthy things—no, if I'm not mistaken, to make a Horcrux you have to kill something and encase something yourself. Firstly, we never killed anything, and secondly, we did the encasing for you. Plus, if a wizard makes a Horcrux, part of his soul is gone."

"And in your case," Bill added, "your souls are full, because it is completed with a piece of each other. You're not missing anything. You two won't be immortal at all. We've researched everything, if we did anything dangerous Mum would have a fit—"

"Furthermore," Charlie added, "this whole thing wouldn't have worked if your souls weren't compatible. And this means that you two have always been…"

"_Soul mates_," the Godfather Gang and Ginny said simultaneously.

Hermione looked at Bill, Charlie, and then back to Bill uncertainly. "S-soul mates?" she felt her hands close convulsively around Ron's, who squeezed back reassuringly.

"That's the only thing it means," Bill said, grinning. "Only one thing left to say to you—congratulations!" and with that, the eldest Weasley brother grabbed Hermione's hand and pumped it, while Charlie was shaking Ron's hand energetically.

Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Neville lined up behind the Weasley brothers to shake their friends' hands as well (although Neville slipped and fell a couple times on the way).

"Now who wants some drinks?" Dean said, already on his way to a table laden with punch bowls and bottles of Firewhisky and butterbeer. Ron, having finished his bottle already, followed the Godfather Gang out to the table eagerly, when Hermione's hand stopped him.

"Butterbeer only," she said severely. "We're still prefects."

"But—"

"_Ron_?"

"But—"

Hermione glared at him severely.

"All right…"

-x-

When the noise of their friends and fellow Gryffindors finally died down with the last few embers in the fireplace, Ron and Hermione were still on the couch closest to it, Hermione's head on Ron's shoulder. "I can't believe we took this long," Hermione laughed.

"At least we're together now," Ron said, kissing her forehead. "I wish we've done this earlier though…"

"But at least we're together now," Hermione said, echoing her boyfriend's words. "I'm really glad."

Hermione nestled deeper into his shoulder and closed her eyes. _I love you_, she heard a voice say. Recognizing it as Ron's, she smiled and thought, _I love you too_.

After a few moments, Hermione leaped off the couch. "It's late!" she said worriedly, pressing her hands to the side of her face in horror. "I'll never be able to get up in the morning!"

Ron laughed. "I guess we'd better go up then—er, to our separate beds—er, separate dormitories…" his voice trailed off awkwardly. Laughing at Hermione's scandalized face, he gave her a quick, innocent kiss and headed off to the Boys' Dormitory stairs. "Just kidding," he called over his shoulder, giving Hermione at lopsided grin.

Hermione couldn't resist the grin.

After having an internal conflict with herself briefly, she ran over to Ron and kissed him.

When Ron finally began walking up the stairs half a minute after Hermione hastily ran up hers, he laughed fondly. _I love you_, he thought again.

_I love you too. Now goodnight!_

-x-

Hermione was still yawning as she walked into Potions class, darting in right before the late bell sounded. However, to her pleasant surprise, she found Snape was not yet in the dungeons, and took a seat beside Ron, behind Harry and Neville, and in front of Dean and Seamus. _Remember what I thought to you earlier?_ Hermione thought, looking at Ron and fingering her wand.

_Yeah,_ she heard Ron think, _that slimy bugger will never know what hit him._ _Don't forget, it's nonverbal._

_Yes, yes, Ronald, I know._

At that moment, the door to the dungeons was slammed open unceremoniously, and Snape strode inside, hastily pocketing what appeared to be another bag of money. Not apologizing for his lateness, as he was Severus Snape, and Severus Snape is very rude, he adjusted his robes and slapped the blackboard with his wand. "The Essence of Insan—" he began, however, Hermione had subtly pointed her wand at Snape—

_Immundagrito!_

The results were instantaneous. All of a sudden, the dank dungeon was echoing with pained, torturous screams—and they seemed to be emitting from Snape's head. Horrified with the noise, students looked around wildly and hid behind cauldrons, some toppling off their stands. The Slytherins, who were taking potions with the Gryffindors that day, were largely hit with many cauldrons, to the Gryffindors' delight, as Snape stood at the front of the classroom by himself, stumbling around and clutching his forehead.

_Seccatura!_ Ron thought fiercely, aiming at Snape. Instantly, pieces of chalk leapt off the blackboard and bounced off of Snape, making sounds that sounded suspiciously like "Bother!" as they hopped merrily about him.

"What in Merlin's—" he snarled, dropping his wand as another piece of chalk belted him in the forehead.

At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Filch poked his head in. "Professor Snape sir, I was wondering if I could have another cauldron of—" but a cauldron barreled straight towards him, and Filch gave an agonizing screech and ran away, rather like an old man trying to run to the bathroom.

Snape followed Filch out of the room, just as another cauldron caught him squarely in the derriere, and he flew out of the dungeon, cursing, his hair yelling loudly all the way.

"That's what you get for giving us that detention!" Ron yelled after him, knowing that the screeches and echoing would drown out his voice.

Once everything had quieted down, Harry, Neville, Dean, and Seamus faced Ron and Hermione, grinning appreciatively. "You two did it, didn't you?" Neville said, an awestruck grin spreading across his face.

"That was bloody brilliant," Seamus whispered, looking awed himself.

As Hermione eyed the Slytherin side of the dungeons, picking themselves and their cauldrons up off the floor she folded her arms. "Well, Snape ought to wash his hair more often," she said stoutly.

Again, the door swung open, however, McGonagall was standing at the entrance, immediately picking Hermione and Ron out. "No one but you would be able to perform such a spell," she said to Hermione severely. "What was that, a Howling Hex?"

"No," Hermione said, looking down, "It's a spell that… that makes something scream when it gets too dirty," she said reluctantly, "and a nuisance spell."

Professor McGonagall shook her head and said loudly, "I am very disappointed in you both," she said. However, she lowered her voice and bent over. "As I said, I can't let people think I favor anybody, because characteristically, I do not. But I have to say, I'm glad you two finally made Severus reap what he sows! It was about time he learned his lesson."

Ron and Hermione grinned at each other.

"Well, has any more damage been done in here?" the professor asked, pacing around the dungeon critically.

The Gryffindors shook their heads no, as the Slytherins, particularly Malfoy, glared across the aisle at them, massaging bruised limbs and peering at their cracked cauldrons.

"Well, if that's all…" McGonagall said, she walked towards the door, and Harry, Dean, Seamus, Neville, Ron, and Hermione could have all sworn they heard her say, "He really needs to wash his hair more, honestly," as she sweeped out of the dungeons.

_**finite incantatem demum**_


End file.
